Arknights: The Life Inside [Arknights]

[CloudyWorld]

Yoren stared at the group chat, his eye twitching as he glared at the image on his phone screen. His fingers flew across the keyboard.


[Jacob Dumas: It's not useful. I suggest you uninstall the game.]


His mood plummeted like a rock in water. The screenshot from the group member made his stomach churn. That damn little sheep. He had spent three full 648-yuan charges trying to pull her. Three. And what did he get? Not even a single strand of wool.


Now, not only was he broke, but he had also blown through his next two months' living expenses.


Yoren turned off his phone, shut his eyes, and leaned back on the school rooftop, letting out a long, weary sigh.


The world has gone mad.

---

Early May had brought a new obsession to the gaming world—a tactical strategy mobile game called Arknights.


Natural disasters, Originium, Infected, the Reunion Movement. The game's apocalyptic aesthetic, intricate lore, and stunning illustrations captivated players instantly.


The internet was flooded with images of a certain girl with long ears and a loose coat. The community had affectionately dubbed her "Ami...Ma...Hu...ahem, Amiya-chan!"


"If the footprints of life are destined to be buried by the dust of time, then we can never stop moving forward."


Amiya reached out her delicate hand. "Blade Master, will you still stand by my side?"


And just like that, thousands of players were lost to the siren call of Rhodes Island, throwing themselves into the world of Terra as devoted Doctors—somewhere between genius tacticians and lunatics consumed by the gacha gods.

---

The classroom hummed with post-lecture chatter. Yoren slumped at his desk, staring blankly out the window, his soul barely tethered to his body.


His best friend, Zhang, leaned over and whispered, "Yoren, I heard you spent money again?"


"Mm. Three times 648."


Zhang winced. "And?"


They had both been there from day one, both sworn swordsmen of Rhodes Island. Zhang knew exactly what Yoren had been chasing.


Yoren ruffled his own hair. "Don't ask. Just let me be."


Zhang sighed in understanding. "It's okay. Eyjafjalla is just waiting for you somewhere, Yoren. When you're ready, she'll come to your side."


Yoren clenched his fists. "But—"


Yoren grabbed his hand dramatically. "Don't say it. I know how much you long for her. I know the pain."


"Uh… no, I mean, I'm flat broke. I can't even afford instant noodles for the next two months."


Zhang's face lit up with an enlightened sage smile. "Yoren, your money hasn't disappeared. It has simply transformed into another way of being with you. In the world of gacha, we call this—the law of conservation of energy."


Yoren stared at him, caught between admiration and the overwhelming urge to punch him.


"Zhang...thank you…"


"Oh, by the way, I did a ten-pull during lunch."


Yoren blinked. "And?"


Zhang rubbed his head sheepishly. "Little Sheep's potential +1."


He grinned, his eyes narrowing into infuriating slits. "Haha, isn't it funny? The thing I want never comes, but the one I already have keeps showing up. Life is so unfair. Meow meow meow—haha!"


A nerve in Yoren's forehead twitched.


As if summoned by the scent of suffering, other classmates swarmed around them.


"Yoren, what's your in-game ID? I wanna add you."


"Yoren, is Little Sheep any good? I pulled her this morning, but I'm not sure if I should level her up."


"Yoren, my Little Sheep just hit E2. Which skill should I use when clearing maps?"


Yoren's expression darkened with each question.


"That's it!" He slammed his desk and stood abruptly. "You can all go to hell!"


A chubby classmate strolled over, an amused glint in his eye. "Yoren, do you prefer hot pot lamb or roasted lamb leg?"


"I love neither alright!"


Shouldering his bag, he stormed out of the classroom without looking back.

---

The sky had grown heavy with dark clouds, the wind picking up. Yoren walked home, his rage slowly cooling.


Honestly? He wasn't that upset about failing to pull Eyjafjalla. He was frustrated, sure. But more than anything, he was excited about Arknights itself. He loved the world, the lore, the thrill of piecing together its mysteries.


He pulled out his phone. The weather forecast had been right—tonight would bring a heavy storm.


A thought flickered through his mind. If Terra were real, would the sky before a natural disaster look like this? Dark clouds churning, the wind whispering warnings of impending chaos?


A shiver ran down his spine.

---

The rain came crashing down just as Yoren shut his front door.


Throwing his bag aside, he collapsed onto his bed and pulled out his phone, instinctively tapping on Amiya's profile picture.


"Akunako!"


The familiar game interface loaded.


——Doctor, welcome back!


A soft smile tugged at his lips.


Maybe Eyjafjalla hadn't come home yet, but that was okay. As long as he kept playing, one day, she would.

---

The game had been out for a month, and its popularity showed no signs of fading. The first event had just launched, pushing the hype to even greater heights.


Yoren loved diving into the lore, uncovering hidden details the developers had scattered throughout the game. Online forums buzzed with theories—who the Doctor really was, what Amiya's fate would be, and even connections between Arknights and real-world myths.


As Yoren dug deeper, a strange thought took root in his mind.


If Terra were real, would they still treat Arknights as a game?


War. Ruins. Freedom. Death.


We sit in comfort, unaware of what it means to lose everything—to be Infected.


Like Amiya had said:


The dead will never return.


Yoren stared at his screen, lost in thought. The rain pounded against his window, the world outside dark and restless.


Then, a new message appeared on the screen.


Human, are you willing to change the world of Terra with your actions?


Yoren froze.


Was this… a new game feature?


The words remained, unblinking.


Thunder rumbled outside, and a chill crawled up his spine.


Human, are you willing to change this world with your actions?


Yes or No.


His pulse quickened. His hand hovered over the screen.


What is this? A hidden event? A prank? It wasn't April Fool's—


CRACK!


A deafening thunderclap.


Startled, his finger accidentally hit Yes.


The phone slipped from his grasp.


BANG!


The screen smacked him square in the face.


Then, the world went dark.


Yoren felt himself falling—


Falling—


Into an abyss with no end.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 2


Yoren felt himself surrounded by darkness, his mind drifting away. His consciousness blurred as he spun endlessly, as if gravity had abandoned him. A distant voice echoed in his ears.

"Her ideal is to save everyone. Even if she is misunderstood, even if she turns to ashes, she has never wavered. She is a naive and foolish girl. Human from another world, I have only one request. Before she sacrifices everything, please save her."

The voice resonated deep in his soul.

Who is she?

Then, in an instant, the darkness shattered into blinding white light. Gravity returned, and Yoren felt solid ground beneath his feet.

---

He opened his eyes.

Before him stretched a cityscape unlike anything he had ever seen. Under a gray sky, a prosperous town thrived. The buildings bore intricate geometric carvings, their facades painted in rich colors, with semi-arched doors and towering pilasters. It was foreign yet mesmerizing.

Yoren stood frozen, his mind racing.

What the hell? Just moments ago, he had been lying in bed, playing on his phone—

His phone!

His memory snapped back. The strange message on the screen. The voice in his head. The moment he pressed "yes."

No way… was this real?

He was so stunned that he didn't even notice the fruit stall directly in front of him.

"Ku..."

A cheerful voice called out from behind.

That voice—Yoren knew it all too well. He turned mechanically, his body moving like a rusty machine.

A petite girl with orange hair and squinted eyes stood before him, smiling her usual silly grin.

K…Kroos?

She beamed. "Haha, you're such a weird person! Kroos has been watching you for a while, and you haven't moved an inch. I thought you fell asleep standing up, just like me!"

Yoren's eyebrows scrunched together.

"Um… do you know me?"

"Nope!" she said with a laugh.

"..."

She tilted her head. "You look kinda pale. Are you feeling sick?"

"Uh, no. I'm fine."

"Well, if you're okay, I gotta run. Beagle's waiting for me. Bye-bye! Kroos loves ya!"

Yoren barely registered her departure. His thoughts were in chaos.

There was no denying it—he had been transported to another world. And if his gut feeling was right…

"Wait a minute." He turned back toward Kroos, who stopped and looked at him curiously.

"Yeah?"

"Where… am I?"

Kroos raised an eyebrow. "Huh? This is obvious. You're in Chernobog."

A chill ran down Yoren's spine. "Chernobog? You mean… the Ursus Empire?"

She gave him a thumbs-up. "Bingo!"

The cold northern wind howled through the streets, biting into his skin. Yoren sucked in a breath, his body trembling—not just from the cold, but from realization.

This wasn't a dream. This wasn't an illusion.

This was Terra.

He threw his head back and whispered to the sky, "Fuck, this is too real."

---

Natural disasters. Originium. The Infected. The very concepts he had once obsessed over in a mere game were now his reality.


A world teetering on the edge of ruin. A world where people bore the traits of animals. A world where massive catastrophes reshaped civilization itself.


And worst of all, the Infected—people cursed by Originium, outcasts shunned by society, forced into hiding or slaughtered outright.


Yoren reached into his pockets, searching for anything useful.


Nothing. No student ID, no keys, no money—and, most importantly, no phone.


Great. Other isekai protagonists at least got some overpowered system or divine artifact. Meanwhile, he got thrown here barefoot, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts.


Hell mode.


Still, panicking wouldn't help. He needed to think.

---

The known facts were that he had been forcefully transported to Terra for one.
The second was some type of force brought him here, that he knew for certain.
The third was a voice asking him to save someone.

"Her ideal is to save everyone, even if she turns to ashes."

Amiya. It had to be her.

But what was he supposed to do about it? He wasn't some mighty warrior or brilliant tactician—just a broke college student who had failed to pull Eyjafjalla despite spending three 648s.

I just wanted my little sheep. Why did it come to this?!

He groaned and rubbed his temples.

No matter what, survival came first.

Yoren turned toward a nearby fruit stall, manned by a burly Ursus merchant with bear ears.

"Uh… boss, can you tell me what year it is?"

The merchant shot him a weird look. "1093."

Yoren stiffened.

That meant…

He was three years away from the Chernobog Catastrophe.

A violent gust of wind carried snowflakes through the streets. Yoren shivered violently—partly from the cold, but mostly from the sheer weight of what this meant.


In three years, Reunion would seize Chernobog. The entire city would fall into chaos.


The catastrophe that kicked off Arknights' main story was looming over him.


He glanced around at the towering Ursus citizens strolling the streets, blissfully unaware of what awaited them.


Can I really change anything?


His fists clenched. He had no answers. No tools. No plan.


But right now, he needed food, clothes, and shelter.


He had to survive.


As he surveyed the street, a sharp scream tore through the air.


"Ahhh! Run! It's an Infected!"

---

On the streets of Chernobyl, every Ursus walked with a fearless expression. Their arrogant looks made it seem as if they were just short of hanging a banner above their heads that read, "Bearmen, fearless."


Yet, the moment a panicked voice screamed, "Run, it's an infected person!" their faces twisted with fear.


Ursus people were naturally strong, proud, and quick to anger. Their heroic spirit was undeniable, but so was their deep-seated hatred for the infected.


In Ursus cities, the fate of an infected person was never in question—it was always brutal.


No living creature waits patiently for death. Survival is instinctive. Just as the infected feared the Ursus, to the Ursus, the infected were walking threats.


As soon as the cry rang out, the owner of a fruit stall sprang into action. He slammed his stall shut and bellowed at the crowd, "Women and children, leave this street immediately! Military police! Someone get the military police!"


Grabbing an iron rod from behind his stall, he rushed toward the disturbance, joined by a group of burly men, their movements sharp with purpose.


Yoren curled his lips.


This wasn't the first time an infected person had appeared in broad daylight. The residents were well-prepared.


Nearby, a little girl with bear ears clutched her mother's hand. "Mom, what are the infected? Are they bad people?"


Her mother's expression darkened. "They're the worst people in the world. They hurt families and friends. And worse, they spread oripathy. Never go near them."


"Oh..."


Yoren, standing close by, overheard the conversation.


She wasn't wrong—the infected were dangerous. But she hadn't finished her thought.


People feared the infected, wanted them gone, but before they were infected, they might have been those same families and friends.


Angry shouts erupted in the distance.


"There's more than one! They ran!"


"Everyone, after them! They're wearing foreign clothes! Search them all!"


"Infected from other countries sneaking in? This is despicable! If caught, they should be executed immediately!"


Yoren had no intention of getting involved, but those words sent a chill through him.


He had no ears on his head, no tail on his body. He was human—a lone, unique existence. And most critically, he had nothing to prove his identity.


Even though he was sure he wasn't infected, if he were arrested as a suspicious outsider, he doubted he'd survive the "hospitality" of the Ursus people before they even completed a medical exam.


Rubbing his freezing feet, Yoren knew he had to avoid two things:


First, he couldn't get caught.


Second, while hiding, he absolutely couldn't run into a real infected person. He had no idea how contagious oripathy actually was.


He took a deep breath, then sprinted toward the other side of the street.


The panic had spread. Windows slammed shut. Mothers pulled their children indoors. Men with hardened expressions combed the streets, iron rods clutched in their fists.


Yoren slipped into an alleyway.


At the far end, a figure lay crumpled in the corner.


A large-bellied man with a flushed face, an empty wine bottle clutched in his hand. His eyes were closed, a blissful drunken smile on his lips.


A drunk.


Yoren exhaled in relief.


Without hesitation, he yanked off the man's oversized boots. A bit loose, but better than freezing barefoot.


Then he began peeling away the man's thick fur coat. Muttering as he worked, "Why's an Ursus wearing so much? Embarrassing."


Once bundled up, warmth returned to his body.


The drunk lay sprawled, belly exposed, snoring away. With his thick chest hair and sheer body mass, Yoren figured he wouldn't freeze to death before morning.


Just then, footsteps echoed behind him.


Yoren stiffened. Slowly, he turned.


A muscular Ursus man stood at the alley's entrance, iron rod clenched tight, eyes locked on him.


Shit. Busted.


Right now, Yoren wasn't just an illegal resident, a strange species, or a suspected infected—he had a new crime: suspected drunken assault. And he had been caught red-handed.


Cold sweat beaded on his forehead.


The Ursus man stepped forward, each footfall heavy.


Looking at the thick muscles bulging from his arms, Yoren had no doubt he'd be beaten senseless in the next second.


His mind raced. Then, an idea.


With a deep inhale, he forced a fierce expression onto his face. Snatching up the wine bottle, he barked out, "Damn it, so he's just a drunk! I thought he was a damn infected!"


The Ursus man froze.


Before he could speak, Yoren cut him off. "Hey, brother, have you found anything over there? I've checked three alleys—nothing."


"Uh… no. Who are you?"


"I live in Xicheng District. Just had business here today. But no time for chit-chat, we need to find those infected bastards before they bring trouble to Ursus!"


The Ursus man hesitated. "You're Ursus too? Why're you so scrawny?"


Yoren scoffed, tossing the bottle to the ground. "Losing weight. All muscle under here, but I'm not stripping in this weather."


The man squinted. "Where're your ears?"


Yoren clicked his tongue, stepping closer. "Are you done? This is no time for chatting! A true Ursus man is out there hunting infected! Or… are you scared? Using this as an excuse to slack off?"


The Ursus man's expression darkened. "Fuck no! I hate infected! Anyone scared of them is a coward!"


Yoren clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit! You check that side, I'll take this one. We'll get those bastards before sundown! Move!"


"Right!"


The Ursus man stormed off, iron rod in hand.


As soon as he was gone, Yoren slumped against the wall, breathless.


"Damn..."

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 3

Yoren stuck his head out of the alley, scanning his surroundings. When he was sure no one was around, he slipped out, keeping his movements quick and silent.


He had been lucky—just a muscle-headed fool. If that Ursus man had pressed further, he might have been exposed.


Pulling the collar of his fur coat high to shield his face, Yoren avoided the crowds and made his way toward the outskirts of Qie City, where fewer people roamed.


As he moved, thoughts churned in his mind.


The safest option was to reach the outskirts and find a slum or abandoned district to hide out in until the search died down.


To be honest, he felt uneasy.


In his old world, he had faced countless dangers in video games. Whether it was saving the princess in a fantasy realm or taking down a demon king in a cursed castle, he never hesitated. After all, if you died, you could always try again.


But here? Here, there were no second chances.


The air was cold, the fear real. He was living inside the world of Arknights—but unlike before, he wasn't a player looking at pixels on a screen. He was a man with no power, no allies, and no way out.


It was the year 1093 of the Terra calendar. According to what he remembered from Arknights lore, Rhodes Island had only recently been established. Before Amiya turned it into a formidable paramilitary medical force, it had been just a small pharmaceutical company.


He had already met Kroos, and it seemed she and Beagle had yet to join Rhodes Island.


The major factions were still in their infancy—Penguin Logistics, Blacksteel International, Kjerag Trade, Rhine Lab. The power balance of the world was shifting, but nothing had solidified yet.


And as for the operators he knew so well? He had no idea where they were at this point in history.


Three years ago, when Talulah led Reunion's uprising in Chernobog… where were they?


Amiya was probably still just a young girl.


Texas was a rookie at Penguin Logistics.


Liskarm and Franka were fresh recruits at Blacksteel International.


And Eyjafjalla…


Yoren smirked at the thought.


A young Eyjafjalla, wearing a puffy skirt, speaking in that soft, sleepy voice.


["These lambs were left to me by my mother. Senior, aren't they cute? …Senior? I fell asleep..."]


"Heh… hehehe…" Yoren chuckled to himself like a complete idiot as he jogged through the cold streets, the fur coat billowing behind him.


Wiping away a bit of drool, he snapped back to reality.


"I'm not a lolicon… probably. When I meet her, I have to be the image of a cool, reliable senior."


Then again… who even was he in this world?


He wasn't a swordsman. He wasn't a hero. He was just a shut-in gamer who struggled to clear Arknights stages without looking up guides.


One moment, he was grinding through a Raid level. The next, he had been dragged into this world, barefoot in the snow, with only a vague mission: "Save Amiya."


But how? He had no skills, no weapons, no power.


Still, despite all the fear and uncertainty, something inside him burned with excitement.


Because this was Arknights.


He wasn't just watching his favorite operators on a screen anymore. He could meet them. Talk to them. Fight alongside them.


And if he couldn't pull them from a gacha banner?


Then he'd go find them himself.


—


An hour later.


Yoren's breath came in heavy gasps. His legs ached, his throat was dry. He slowed his pace.


The road had become rough, the buildings around him worn-down and abandoned. He hadn't seen another person in at least ten minutes.


No doubt about it—he had reached the deserted districts of Chernobog.


The wind had picked up, snowflakes swirling through the air. If this kept up, there'd be a full-blown snowstorm by nightfall.


He needed shelter. A place to rest. Somewhere to start a fire.


His gaze swept the area until he spotted four large warehouses in the distance. They looked abandoned, but still sturdy enough to block out the wind.


Perfect.


Yoren trudged toward them, stopping in front of one of the rusted iron doors. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle and pulled with all his strength.


Screeeech.


The heavy door groaned open just enough for him to slip inside.


The interior was dark and vast, crates stacked high in the corners. He had just begun searching for firewood when a pair of blood-red eyes glowed from behind the boxes.


His breath caught.


"Oh, shit!"


The dim lighting made the sight even more terrifying. Yoren stumbled back, heart pounding, his skin crawling with goosebumps.


A beast? A zombie? A ghost?


After a tense moment, a thin man emerged from the shadows, his movements stiff and unnatural.


He wasn't just anyone—he was a Filin. But something was wrong.


His bloodshot eyes were wide with paranoia. His body trembled. Veins bulged from his neck. And on his skin—


Yoren swallowed hard.


Black crystal formations.


Oh, hell.


"Infected," Yoren muttered under his breath.


The Filin man suddenly pointed at him, his voice breaking into a crazed scream.


"You're here to kill me, aren't you?! I won't let you catch me! Before I die, you'll all die! The natural disaster is coming! Everyone will die!"


Yoren raised his hands. "Hey, hey, calm down. I don't mean any harm. I'll just—"


"No one can escape! I've seen it! The rain of fire! The storm that will tear everything apart! Everyone will die! EVERYONE!"


Yoren's eyes darted to the man's outstretched hand.


Crystals. Growing on his skin.


A chill ran down his spine.


Before he could react, a deep, authoritative voice cut through the air.


"Bloodshot eyes, hallucinations, and crystallization on the skin. Early-stage oripathy symptoms. This man is infected."


Yoren whirled around.


Standing at the warehouse entrance was a petite Ursus girl, her fur-collared crimson coat billowing as she stepped inside. Dark red strands mixed with her brown hair, framing sharp blue eyes. Her face was fair, striking, but what stood out most was the unwavering confidence she carried.


A red armband sat on the sleeve of her coat.


Unlike the massive, brutish Ursus he had seen before, she was barely 1.6 meters tall. Yet her presence filled the room.


Yoren's breath hitched as realization struck him.


"You… you can't be… Winter?"


The girl gave him a single glance before scoffing.


"Pathetic. Get out of the warehouse. Now."

---

Looking at the bear-eared girl's defiant expression and hearing her sharp words, Yoren was absolutely certain.


That's right—she was a hot-blooded fighter through and through.


Dusting himself off and straightening his hair, he spoke with exaggerated calmness. "General Dong, save me!"


Winter raised an eyebrow. "You know me? Are you a student of the Ursus Student Autonomous Group?"


"Uh… yeah…"


"Which school?"


"No time for details! We're on the same side, right? Think of a solution quick—I don't want to get infected!"


Winter looked a little younger than her game portrait, still carrying traces of immaturity. Yet, to Yoren, she appeared radiant—almost like family.


After all, in his old world, Winter had been his very first five-star operator to reach E2.


She scoffed. "Pathetic. An infected person scared you this much? If you don't want to get infected, stay behind me."


"Got it!" Yoren dashed behind her, gripping the back of her coat like a chick clinging to its mother.


"Hey, don't cling to me."


"I… I'm just making sure you can protect me if he lunges."


Winter shot him a cold glare. "If you don't back off, I'll carve you into pieces."


"Huh?"


With a flick of her coat, she pulled out a short black axe. The blade gleamed as it traced a deadly arc through the air, nearly slicing off the tip of Yoren's nose.


"Stand back!" she roared.


Yoren was already ten steps away before she finished speaking.


The infected Filin crouched by the wooden boxes, his bloodshot eyes flickering with primal survival instinct. His ears flattened, and his muscles tensed like a cornered animal.


"I'm not from Ursus! You have no right to kill me!"


Winter regarded him with icy detachment. "I won't kill you. Ursus has laws for dealing with the infected. I'll hand you over to the military police. No matter where you're from, I won't allow infected to roam freely."


The Filin let out a bitter laugh. "Don't insult me with that lie. Everyone knows how Ursus treats the infected. If you hand me over, they'll strip away my identity, throw me in the mines, and leave me to die alone in the dark."


A flicker of sadness crossed Winter's face. "It's not up to me. Blame fate."


"Fate?" The infected spat, his voice rising with fury. "That's just an excuse for the selfishness of Ursus! Afraid of losing their power, they divide the world into black and white. Those who live in the light refuse to acknowledge the suffering of the infected! No matter what I was before, the moment I contracted this disease, I lost everything!" His fists clenched. "The Ursus aren't gods! Who gave you the right to make these rules?!"


Winter stood silently, letting him rage.


The words echoed in the warehouse, and something in Yoren's chest tightened.


At that moment, he understood.


The world wasn't split into good and evil. Justice was just another word for the victor's will.


The Reunion Movement hadn't emerged from nowhere. And three years from now, Tallulah's cause wouldn't be born in vain.


And Amiya—three years later, he finally understood what she wanted to save.


Winter took a slow breath and tightened her grip on her axe.


"I'm sorry. But for Ursus, I have to do this."


Her voice lacked its usual firmness. Perhaps, for the first time, she was questioning herself. Perhaps this very moment planted the seed of doubt that would later lead her to join Rhodes Island, alongside the friends who lost their homes.


But for now, she was an Ursus leader. And she had a duty to fulfill.


Her face steeled once more. "I don't want to hurt you. But if you resist, I won't hesitate to cut off your hands and feet."


The infected man bared his teeth in a twisted grin. "I won't let anyone oppress me. I will escape Ursus. I will live free!"


Winter smirked. "Oh? Then show me if you have the strength to make that happen. Let me warn you, I'm not like other Ursus."


There was no more need for words.


Yoren knew that despite her age, Winter was a formidable warrior. As the leader of the Ursus Student Autonomous Group, her combat prowess likely ranked near the top of all Ursus fighters.


But this wasn't a game—there were no stats to reference. Yoren had no idea how powerful she truly was.


Winter narrowed her eyes, and the air around her shifted.


Her aura was suffocating. Even Yoren—just a bystander—felt the overwhelming, primal pressure.


In that moment, she wasn't a girl.


She was a beast.


Bang!


Winter roared, the ground beneath her feet cracking as she launched forward, axe in hand, an unstoppable force.


Yoren yelped and darted to the corner, as far away from the battlefield as possible.


The infected Filin reacted with razor-sharp reflexes. As Winter's axe came crashing down, he leapt, his lithe body twisting through the air, landing gracefully atop a metal beam.


CRASH!


Winter's axe obliterated the wooden crate, sending a shockwave of splinters and dust exploding through the warehouse.


Above, the Filin balanced on the steel frame, peering warily into the haze below.


Then—


Winter moved.


With an explosive leap, she soared upward, grabbing onto the metal beam with one hand.


The Filin smirked. Speed and agility belonged to the Filin, not the Ursus. As long as he wasn't caught directly, he could always find a chance to escape.


But he had underestimated Winter.


Still hanging from the beam with one hand, Winter's gaze sharpened. A deep growl rumbled from her throat.


Then—


"RAAHH!!"


With a monstrous roar, her grip tightened.


Metal groaned. The beam in her hand buckled under the sheer force of her grip.


BANG! BANG! BANG!


Under Yoren's and the infected man's horrified gazes, the steel rivets burst from their sockets. The entire metal frame contorted like paper in Winter's grip.


Then—


With one final, earth-shattering tear—


The entire beam came crashing down.


The infected Filin's body seized in shock. As the steel beneath his feet twisted and shattered, he plunged downward, along with the wreckage.


BOOM!


A deafening impact. The man hit the ground hard, blood spurting from his lips before his body went limp.


Silence.


Yoren, still pressed against the corner, gawked, his jaw practically unhinged.


Tearing through steel beams?! That… that wasn't human strength!


That wasn't just the power of a bear.


That was the power of an excavator!


The Ursus people weren't just monsters.


Winter was a monster.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 4


The dust stirred by the collapsed roof beams slowly settled, leaving the entire warehouse in shambles.


A snowflake landed on Yoren's nose. He looked up. One-third of the roof had been torn apart by the merciless winter.


Well… an open-air warehouse. That's one way to put it.


Beneath the wreckage, the infected man lay pinned under twisted steel bars, blood trickling from his mouth.


"He won't die," Winter muttered.


"He's just unconscious from the impact. The Filin people aren't that fragile."


She slung her axe over her shoulder and leaned against the wall, exhaling.


"With all that noise, the military police from Qie City will be here soon. You stay and keep an eye on him. I'm leaving."


Seeing Winter preparing to go, Yoren immediately shook his head like a rattle.


"No, Sister Dong, don't leave."


"Why?"


"I… I'm afraid he'll wake up soon, and I won't be able to handle him."


"Tch. Shame on you."


Yoren just grinned sheepishly. Now that the infected man had been subdued, his own situation didn't seem so dire. And with Winter here, at least he had a witness to prove he wasn't involved—just an ordinary guy who forgot his ID.


Winter squatted down and placed her axe gently on the ground. Compared to her earlier brutality, she seemed more at ease now.


"By the way, which school are you from?"


"Uh… my school's far from here."


"You don't look Ursus. How do you know me?"


"I… I'm your fan!"


Winter smirked faintly.


She wasn't a celebrity, but given her position in the student union, it wasn't surprising that some people admired her. Across the Ursus Empire, there were plenty of legends about her.


Yoren wrapped himself in his coat and crouched beside her.


"Winter, why did you come to Chernobog?"


"I'm here to see a friend."


"A friend?"


"Yeah. Her name is Zhenli. She's my best friend."


She didn't know it yet, but three years from now, Chernobog would be destroyed by catastrophe. The Integration Movement led by Talulah would seize control, threatening Lungmen itself.


Yoren stole a glance at Winter. If history followed the same path he remembered, she would eventually lead the student union to join Rhodes Island.


"Winter."


"Hm?"


"What are your plans for the future?"


She tilted her head, her ice-blue eyes calm.


"Plans? Haven't thought about it. I'm not at an age where I need to."


"That's… very much like you."


Winter frowned.


"Tch. You talk like you know me well."


Yoren just smiled and said nothing.


He had a strange feeling.


If history ran its course, he already knew what would happen in three years. For the world, he was a man from the future—but only up to a certain point. The story he knew only reached a few chapters ahead. Beyond that, everything was a mystery.


And that's what worried him.


The butterfly effect.


History followed certain patterns, but it was also shaped by unpredictable variables. Even the smallest change could send ripples through everything.


The operators in Arknights were all key figures in the vortex of Terra's conflicts. But he didn't belong here. A single action, a single word, could alter the course of events and trigger an unforeseen chain reaction.


Maybe that's why… that man in the darkness summoned me here.


A gust of icy wind swept through the ruined warehouse, carrying flurries of snow.


Yoren turned his head and noticed the white flakes gathering around Winter's furry ears.


Instinctively, he reached out to brush them away—


But before his fingers could touch her, her ears twitched, shaking the snow off.


Like a pet flicking off dust.


Yoren froze.


His heart skipped a beat.


That was…


His hands clenched into fists. He inhaled deeply.


So.


Kawaii.


Animal ears were the best.


Winter turned to him, raising an eyebrow.


"Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my head?"


As she spoke, she unconsciously shook her ears again.


Yoren almost died on the spot.


He covered his face with both hands, desperately trying to contain himself.


"No—nothing. I just, uh… think your ears are… really cute."


Winter scoffed.


"Tch. We Ursus all have them."


Yoren glanced at her again.


And suddenly—


A reckless idea popped into his head.


He knew it was stupid. He knew it was dangerous. But between the sheer insanity of time travel and his growing sense of detachment from reality—


He just didn't care anymore.


There was something he had always wanted to do.


And if not now… then when?


Do I want to be a coward for the rest of my life…


Or a real man for one second?


Yoren swallowed.


Damn it. I'm going for it.


Winter, completely oblivious to the madness unfolding in Yoren's brain, was mumbling to herself, rubbing her hands together for warmth.


"Why are the military police so damn slow? That crash should've been loud enough to—"


Before she could finish—


Yoren moved.


Like lightning, he reached out—


And grabbed her ears.


Then, he squeezed them.


Soft. Warm. Furry.


A pure, unfiltered sense of joy flooded his brain.


Winter froze.


The next second—


A noise escaped her lips.


A noise that should not have come from someone like her.


"Ah~"


The moment it left her mouth, Yoren panicked.


He ripped his hands away, clutching his nose to prevent a nosebleed.


Winter sat there, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping her head, her breathing unsteady.


"You… what the hell was that?"


The tone of her voice suggested she felt deeply, deeply violated.


Yoren immediately scrambled several feet away, waving his hands frantically.


"Uh—uh, I—I'm so sorry! I had to do it—I couldn't help myself!"


He grabbed a stick from the ground and shoved it toward her.


"H-here! Just hit me with this! Just don't aim for my head!"


Winter took the stick.


And crushed it into sawdust with one hand.


Yoren blanched.


"S-Sister Dong… please, have mercy…"


Winter slowly bent down, reaching for her axe.


She stood up, hair shadowing her eyes, her face unreadable.


Yoren flinched.


Then—


She turned toward the warehouse entrance.


"Stand back."


Yoren blinked.


"Huh?"


Winter narrowed her eyes.


"Someone's coming."


"Wait… is it the military police?"


"No."


Winter's grip tightened around her axe.


"I can feel it."


A chill ran down her spine.


"The breath of a beast."

---

Yoren couldn't imagine what kind of creature Winter—an Ursus of all people—would call a beast.


The warehouse was eerily silent, save for the wind howling through the hole in the roof.


Winter tightened her grip on her axe, eyes locked on the door.


Heavy footsteps echoed outside. Slow. Deliberate.


Then they stopped.


Right in front of the door.


Yoren swallowed.


They waited.


Nothing happened.


"…Did it leave?" he whispered.


Winter didn't relax.


"No."


Her tone was grim.


"Large predators don't attack right away. They measure their prey first. If they hold back, they won't strike at all. But the moment they bare their fangs… they will rip flesh from bone."


Yoren shivered.


"So… the thing outside—it's sizing you up?"


"Maybe."


"Should we call for backu—"


BANG!


Something slammed into the metal door. The force was so immense that it dented the thick iron.


Yoren's stomach dropped.


BANG!


The second hit sent cracks spiderwebbing across the doorframe. The warehouse trembled.


Yoren pointed at the door, face pale.


"Winter… you sure this is a beast? Because it sounds like a goddamn bulldozer."


BOOM!


A final, deafening crash—


The entire metal door ripped free, flung across the warehouse like a toy. It slammed into the far wall with a metallic clang, kicking up dust.


Yoren gawked.


"Okay, was that really necessary?!"


Winter didn't answer.


She was already preparing for a fight.


As the dust cleared, a lone figure emerged.


A slender, golden-haired girl stepped into view.


Despite the frigid Ursus winter, she wore only a black jacket over a thin, torn T-shirt. A pair of feline ears twitched atop her head, her messy ponytail swaying as she walked.


She wore nothing but shorts, her bare thighs exposed to the cold, but she didn't seem to care.


In one hand, she twirled a massive, black-metal sledgehammer.


The cocky smirk on her face said it all.


I am invincible.


Yoren's stomach dropped.


Oh, shit.


She stopped in front of them, rolling a lollipop between her fingers. Her sharp eyes swept over the scene before landing on the injured man pinned under steel bars.


Her expression darkened.


"You two did this to my little brother?"


Winter met her gaze fearlessly.


"I did it alone."


The girl tilted her head.


"Oh? Then give me a reason."


Winter's lips curled.


"Before you ask questions, you should introduce yourself first, little Aslan girl."


The blonde scoffed.


"I don't waste my name on dumb bears. You hurt my men. I'll make you pay for it."


Winter cracked her knuckles.


"Oh? You can try."


"I would try, even if you didn't tell me to."


"Then come on."


"Come on."


The tension thickened like ice in a storm.


Yoren, feeling an impending bloodbath, hurriedly stepped between them.


"Okay, okay, hold up!" He forced a wide, nervous grin.


"You two—let's not rip each other apart just yet. Especially you, Miss Wang."


The golden-haired girl narrowed her eyes.


"…My last name isn't Wang."


Yoren already knew her identity the moment she walked in.


Vina.


The King of Impulse.


The infamous leader of the Glasgow Gang.


Vina popped the lollipop into her mouth, speaking around it.


"Huh? Who the hell are you?" She waved a hand dismissively. "I'm here on a Glasgow mission. Everyone else—clear out."


Winter's eyes sharpened.


"You're with the Glasgow Gang?"


Vina smirked.


"What, got a problem?"


Winter crossed her arms.


"What is Victoria's biggest gang doing in Chernobog?"


"You don't need to know."


The dismissive response made Winter's blood boil.


Back in Ursus, no one talked to her like that.


Winter rolled up her sleeves.


"You little brat. Say that again, and I'll pluck every single piece of that piss-colored hair off your head."


Vina raised an eyebrow.


"Please. Look at those scrawny arms. Shouldn't you be hibernating?"


Winter's nostrils flared.


"I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART."


Seeing Winter about to detonate, Yoren desperately threw himself between them again.


"Winter, no, stop!"


"Get out of my way! She's dead!"


As Winter struggled against him, Vina squinted.


She tapped her chin thoughtfully, staring at Winter.


"Wait… you called her Winter?"


She pulled the lollipop from her mouth, her expression shifting.


"As in… THE Winter? Ursus Student Autonomous Group Winter?"


Yoren finally managed to shove Winter back, exhaling.


"Yep. That's the Winter. And you'd better not piss her off. You might be allies in the future."


Vina frowned.


"What the hell are you talking about?"


Then, her eyes narrowed further.


"Wait… how do you know my name?"


Winter stiffened.


"You're Vina?"


She suddenly looked at Vina in a new light.


"The King of Impulse? The leader of the Glasgow Gang?"


Vina groaned.


"OH FOR FU— I TOLD YOU, MY LAST NAME ISN'T WANG!"


Yoren waved her off, completely ignoring her frustration.


"Got it, Miss Wang."


Vina twitched.


A vein popped in her forehead.


Winter and Vina stared at each other.


The air between them crackled.


They had heard of each other before.


The infamous Ursus Student Autonomous Group and the notorious Glasgow Gang were both well-known in their respective regions. Even though this was three years before Chernobog fell, their reputations were already legendary.


Vina smirked.


"I didn't expect Ursus's 'General Winter' to be so young."


Winter's lips curled.


"And I didn't expect Glasgow's leader to be such a loudmouthed brat."


Yoren, sensing another impending deathmatch, clapped his hands together.


"Alright, great! So, we know each other. That's fantastic. Let's all sit down and talk this out like civilized people, yeah?"


Vina side-eyed him.


"…I've been meaning to ask since the start." She crossed her arms. "Who the hell are you?"


Yoren hesitated.


He had no idea what to say.


After a long pause, he finally forced out:


"Uh… Miss Wang… actually, I'm your biggest fan."


Vina blinked.


Then her entire face darkened.


"…I. TOLD. YOU. MY LAST NAME ISN'T WANG!!!"


She swung her sledgehammer at Yoren's face.

 

[Teftel-__-]

Its plase there this fic is over? Looks like his dead

 

[Raphiel]

Its plase there this fic is over? Looks like his dead

Click to shrink...

I…bro, what?

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 5


"Ouch!"

Yoren felt a sharp jolt in his head, his vision darkening as a ringing noise filled his ears.

Vina hadn't even swung hard—she had only tapped him lightly with the hammer, as if expressing her dissatisfaction. But even that was enough to send him crashing to the ground.

Lying there like a lifeless ragdoll, Yoren could barely make out the voices of the two women conversing above him. Their words drifted in and out, erratic and distant.

"Is this infected person one of your Glasgow gang members?"
"That's right. And I won't let you hand him over to the Ursus military police. I'm taking him with me, Winter. I know you're strong, but I suggest you don't do anything pointless."
"Vina, tell me—why is a member of the Glasgow gang infected with Oripathy? And why are you in Chernobog?"

"That's none of your business."
"I've been hearing rumors. Foreign gang members have been showing up in Ursus lately. Is that your Glasgow gang?"
"I said, it's none of your business."
"King of Advancement, Vina—answer me. Are you smuggling Originium to some underground faction within Ursus?"
"I'll say this one last time: it's none of your business."

Winter's voice turned icy, her presence commanding and absolute.
"If you don't give me a straight answer, no one is leaving this place."

Boom!

A deafening shockwave erupted next to Yoren, the sheer force shaking him from his daze and jolting him upright.

Dazed, he clutched the fresh lump on his head, barely registering what was happening before another impact sent him sprawling backward. His ears rang, his mind reeled.

Then he looked up—and his breath caught in his throat.

Winter stood firm, gripping her axe with both hands, while Vina's black warhammer pressed against the handle, unyielding.

The ground beneath them had caved in, deep cracks splitting the walls around them. The sheer force of Vina's strike was staggering—this wasn't just brute strength. This was raw, unrestrained power.

Vina's golden hair was wild, standing on end, her wide eyes burning with fury.

"I said, stay out of my business! Don't piss me off, Winter!"

Winter, unwavering, held her ground despite the floor beneath her feet sinking. Her legs didn't buckle, her stance remained firm. But her expression had changed—her usual composed demeanor replaced by something graver.

She had underestimated Vina.

That hammer swing hadn't been precise, hadn't relied on technique—it was pure physical force, and somehow, it matched her own. That alone was unsettling.

More than that—

Vina had done it one-handed.

Realizing the fight was escalating beyond control, Yoren ignored the throbbing pain in his head and rushed between them.

"Enough! Vina, back off! Why are you two actually fighting?!"

"Tch."

The two women, though appearing lean and wiry, were like two freight trains colliding.

Yoren threw himself into the chaos, shoving at their weapons, wedging himself between them, forcing them apart despite the very real risk of being crushed.

Winter stepped back without a word, her face unreadable.

Vina, scowling, exhaled sharply before finally lowering her hammer.

She turned to Yoren and shoved the weapon into his hands.

"Hold this for me, kid."
The moment Vina let go, the warhammer plummeted straight down with a heavy thud, nearly flattening Yoren's foot.
"Shit—"
The weight was monstrous.
"Oh my god, how do you even lift this?!"
"Just rest one end on the ground and hold it steady."
"...Oh."
From his spot against the wall, Lin Dong snorted, looking at Yoren with barely concealed disdain.
"Pathetic."

Meanwhile, Vina shrugged off her leather jacket, rolling her shoulders before crouching near the wreckage. Steel beams had collapsed over her injured companion, trapping him beneath the debris. But Vina didn't hesitate—
She grabbed hold of the twisted metal and ripped it away like it was made of paper.
Despite her slight frame, she bore the title of King of Advancement for a reason. One by one, she tossed aside the heavy debris, flipping over steel beams like they were mere building blocks.
Soon, she had freed the injured man underneath.

The infected man blinked groggily, eyes glassy, his voice hoarse. "Boss… Boss, I'm sorry… I got infected. It's my fault…"
"Shut up. I'm getting you out of here."
"There's… another one…"
"I know. I'll find them after I get you to safety."
Tears welled in the man's eyes as he nodded weakly.
Vina turned back to Yoren, retrieving her hammer from his grip.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Yoren. Yoren—like summer's wind."
Vina raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You're not from Ursus, are you?"
"No."
"Then what are you doing here? Are you friends with Winter?"
"Well… that's complicated. I know her, but she doesn't know me. Today's our first meeting. As for why I'm here… Let's just say I was passing through."
Vina gave a small nod, as if considering his answer.
"Alright. See ya."
"Wait—"
Yoren almost called her Miss Wang—an old habit—but caught himself in time.
"Vina… You're leaving?"
"Yeah."
"Then… goodbye."


Without another word, Vina hoisted the injured man onto her shoulder and strode out of the warehouse, stepping over rubble as if it wasn't even there. Winter, who had been leaning against the wall, made no move to stop her.
Yoren watched her disappear through the doorway.
In his world, Miss Wang had always been one of his favorite Operators.
Winter finally spoke. "Yoren. It's time to go."
"Oh, so you did hear my name just now."
She walked up to him and rested a hand on his shoulder—lightly, almost reassuringly.
"You seem timid, but when it matters, you don't hesitate."
Yoren blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"If you hadn't stepped in, I would've fought Vina to the death."
He laughed dryly. "So that's what this is about. No big deal. I might be useless, but I couldn't just stand by and watch two of my favorite Operators kill each other."
"...What's an Operator?"
"Uh… Never mind."
Yoren glanced around at the ruined warehouse. "Winter, why did you let Vina leave with the infected?"
Winter scoffed, muttering under her breath. "That girl… Consider this me doing her a favor."

She wouldn't admit it outright, but Yoren could tell—
She knew she couldn't beat Vina.
As they stepped outside, a flood of Ursus military police swarmed the scene.

One of the officers—a broad, heavy-set man—eyed them suspiciously. "You two. What the hell happened here?"

Yoren jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "See for yourself."
The officers peered past him into the wreckage.
"What in the—"
Winter shoved her hands into her coat pockets, expression dark. "You idiots. Took you long enough."
"What did you just say, you little—"
Before the officer could snap, his colleague quickly pulled him aside, whispering urgently.
"Wait. That's her. Lin Dong."
"The Lin Dong?"
"Yeah. General Dong herself. I wouldn't pick a fight."
The officer paled, coughing awkwardly. "Ahem."
Yoren smirked. Seems Winter's reputation carried more weight than he'd thought.

Winter gave a brief account of what had happened to the military and police officers of Che City. She carefully omitted the identities of the Glasgow Gang and Vina, instead describing the infected as having been rescued by unknown, highly skilled individuals.

Yoren understood. In a way, Winter and Vina were alike. As the leader of a group that operated in the gray areas of the law, Winter had no reason to become an informant.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder—what had changed in the years ahead? What had happened when the catastrophe struck three years later?
Why had Winter, instead of fighting to the death as she might have now, chosen to abandon Chernobog and lead her companions to Rhodes Island, an organization dedicated to helping the infected?
He studied her face—still youthful, still hardened by experience—and asked,

"Winter."
"Hm?"
"If one day, this city was wiped out in an instant... where would you go?"
Winter frowned at the seriousness in his tone. She looked up at the sky, as if searching for an answer in the endless gray expanse.
"If it were truly destroyed in an instant? Well... as the head of the Ursus Student Self-Government Group, it's not about what happens to me. I'd have to find a place for my people."
It was the answer Yoren had expected. The same response he knew he would have heard from her years later. This was the Winter he had come to admire.
"Winter, promise me you'll survive. We'll meet again in Rhodes Island in three years."
She shot him a puzzled look. "Hah? What kind of nonsense is that? How could I, Winter, ever die? And what's Rhodes Island?"
Yoren chuckled, shaking his head. "Never mind. Forget it."

The military police quickly cordoned off the area, collecting blood samples from the infected beneath the wreckage. Once the experts arrived, they launched their pursuit operations.
Winter dusted off her coat. "We're done here. I've got things to do. You should head home."
Yoren laughed bitterly. Home?
Winter caught the change in his expression and raised a brow. "What's wrong with you?"
He shrugged. "How should I put it... I don't have a home anymore."

She folded her arms. "You ran away, huh?"
"...Something like that."
Winter sighed, then waved over a nearby officer. A man in uniform stepped forward, looking attentive.
"This guy's got nowhere to stay. Find him a place for the night. Food, clothes—whatever he needs. Put it on the Student Government's tab."

"Understood, General Dong."
The sky darkened. Snow began falling heavier, blanketing the streets in silence. Winter turned, her back to Yoren, giving him a lazy wave as she disappeared into the storm.
Yoren watched her go, a strange weight settling in his chest. He had no idea when—or if—he'd see her again.
A firm hand landed on his shoulder. The officer gave him a small shake. "Come on, kid. Let's get you somewhere warm."


Half an hour later, Yoren walked alongside the officer through the dimly lit streets of Chernobog.
"So, kid," the officer said, adjusting his cap, "you're not Ursus, are you? How'd you manage to get General Dong to personally arrange housing for you? How do you know her?"
"Uh… is Winter really that famous?"
The officer gave him a look like he had just asked if the sky was blue.
"You mean to tell me you don't know?"
"I mean, I know she's the leader of the Student Government..."
The officer chuckled, the kind of laugh that said, Kid, you have no idea.
"Listen, no matter what country you're in, students are the future. But in Ursus, only the best of the best can join the Student Autonomous Group. And the ones who lead it? Those are the ones shaping the future of this nation."
Yoren blinked. "That's... a lot more intense than I expected."

"Of course it is! The Student Autonomous Group isn't just some club for overachievers. They go places the government won't go. They solve problems no one else can. Border conflicts, riots, infected uprisings—you name it, they've handled it. Some say their actions have influenced national policy more times than the public even realizes."

Yoren let out a slow whistle. "Damn. That's... kind of insane."
The officer grinned. "Now you're getting it."
They turned into a narrow alley, the officer pointing ahead. "Hotel's just through here. You can stay the night—"
A dull thud cut him off.
The next second, the officer collapsed, hitting the ground hard.
Yoren barely had time to react before a shadow moved from the darkness of the alley.
His stomach twisted. He wasn't being robbed.
He knew this figure.

"Vina?"
The King of Advancement stood there, her golden eyes burning in the dim light, gleaming like a predator's.
Her voice was cold.
"I thought it over. I really can't let you leave."
Yoren took a step back, his throat suddenly dry. "W-why?"
"Because you saw me. You saw my people. The infected are being hunted in this city. I can't touch Winter, but you—you're an unstable factor I can't ignore."
She tightened her grip on her warhammer.

Yoren felt his blood run cold.
She was going to kill him.
For a brief moment, he felt stupid—stupid for forgetting that this wasn't a game, that these people weren't just characters in a story.
Winter, Vina, all of them—they weren't just figures he admired from a distance. They were real, living people, operating in a world where survival wasn't a given.
In his mind, Vina had always been the lion cub with the hammer in one hand and a lollipop in the other, always broke, always complaining.
But beyond the jokes and the quirks—

She was the leader of the Glasgow Gang.
A real gangster.
And what did gangsters do?
Street fights. Turf wars. Smuggling. Murder.
He had heard her and Winter talking earlier—about smuggling Originium, about their illegal dealings.
It was naive to think she wouldn't kill an ordinary bystander for knowing too much.
Yoren stared at her. He clenched his fists—then loosened them.
What a joke. Was he really going to die here, for something so absurd?
He hadn't seen the Lamb. He hadn't touched the halo of the Archangel. He hadn't stolen a chocolate bar from Texas.
He hadn't even told Amiya to her face—"You're not a donkey. You're an adorable little rabbit."
The world was vast, and he hadn't even begun to see it.
Something inside him surged, a desperate, reckless desire to live. He clenched his fists again, his breathing steadying.

Vina raised the hammer, her golden eyes unblinking.
"Even a weak creature like you will struggle before it dies, huh?"

Yoren met her gaze, stepping forward.
His eyes were firm. His expression unshaken.
He squared his shoulders, drew a deep breath—
And in the calmest, steadiest voice he could muster, said:

"Miss Wang, please don't kill me, wuwuwu!"

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 6

Vina expected Yoren to fight back, to scramble for a brick, a bottle—anything—to make a last stand.

But what Yoren said next was completely at odds with the fear in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I'm the leader of the Glasgow Gang. I won't be soft-hearted. I never have been, I'm not now, and I won't be in the future."

His voice was steady, but his trembling hands betrayed him.

"Wait."

"I'm sorry, but I'll make it quick."

"No—you can't kill me."

Vina raised her black warhammer, its weight effortlessly poised in her grip.

"Give me one good reason."

Yoren's mind raced, filtering through every scrap of knowledge he had about this world, every detail he had pulled from his own reality. There had to be something—

Then, a spark of clarity.

"You can't kill me. My existence is too important. I know things about this world—things that haven't happened yet."

Vina's grip on the hammer didn't waver. But she tilted her head slightly, curiosity flashing in her crimson eyes.

"Oh? Like what?"

Yoren inhaled sharply, forcing his body to stop shaking. He had one shot at this.

"Three years from now, the Reunion Movement will use a natural disaster to obliterate Chernobog. The city will be left in ruins and turned into their stronghold. That's only the beginning. Afterward, they'll set their sights on Lungmen."

Vina's expression remained unreadable.

"Chernobog? Lungmen? Even if what you're saying is true—what does that have to do with me? Besides, why should I believe you?"

Yoren clenched his fists.

"It is true. And I know something even more important."

He took a step forward, locking eyes with her.

"For centuries, humanity has learned how to endure natural disasters. But disasters don't destroy civilizations—people do. Vina, you don't turn your back on the infected. Even when your own men fall to Oripathy, you don't abandon them. But not everyone is like you. One day, the world will break, and when that happens, the infected and the uninfected will be at war."

Silence.

A long, heavy silence.

Then, Vina exhaled slowly.

"And?"

Yoren swallowed. He had her attention now.

"Vina—Victoria is cracking. The empire is crumbling, and while the world watches in silence, dark clouds are gathering over Londinium. Three years from now, when the Reunion Movement—led by Tallulah—rises, it will shake the foundations of the world. Not even Victoria will be safe."

The weight of his words hung thick in the air.

After a long pause, Vina finally spoke, her voice quieter than before.

"So? Are you saying you want to save this world?"

Yoren let out a dry, almost bitter laugh.

"I don't have that kind of power. I'm not here to save the world."

He took a breath, his next words steady and certain.

"I'm here to save an innocent rabbit."

Vina blinked. "...Rabbit?"

"That's right. She wants to save everyone. Even when she's misunderstood, even when the whole world turns against her, she won't waver. Three years from now, she will lead a powerful armed medical organization, one that will stand at the center of it all. The name of that organization is—Rhodes Island."

Yoren had spoken all he knew, all he had been sent here to do.

He didn't need to save everyone. That wasn't his burden to bear.

But she—Amiya—would try.

And before her ideals consumed her, before she burned herself to ashes for a dream no one else believed in—

He had to save her first.

Vina studied him for a long moment before finally lowering her hammer.

"You don't sound like you're lying."

"Of course I'm not."

Another beat of silence.

Then—

A familiar voice rang from the entrance of the alley.

"Ororand~you!"

Yoren stiffened.

A small head of orange hair peeked into the alley, squinting playfully as it surveyed the scene.

"Hey! What are you two doing here?"

The corner of Yoren's mouth twitched.

No way. How had he run into Kroos twice in one day?! With this kind of luck, it was no wonder he had never managed to pull Exusiai back in his original world.

Kroos' eyes landed on him, and she grinned.

"Oh! It's you again! Haha, what a coincidence."

Yoren forced a smile. "Uh… hi."

Kroos stepped further into the alley, hands on her hips. "It's so dark in here! What are you doing? Hey—who's the blonde girl?"

"She's a gangster."

Kroos' smile faltered. "...Gangster?"

At that moment, she noticed the enormous hammer in Vina's grip.

Her expression changed instantly.

"Wait—you're being robbed?!"

Before Yoren could even begin to explain, Kroos turned and waved urgently to the side.

"Mia! Get over here—something's happening!"

"Coming!"

Seconds later, Beagle sprinted into the alley, adjusting her glasses as she took in the scene.

Yoren groaned inwardly. Before joining Rhodes Island, Kroos and Beagle had been part of a security team in Columbia. How exactly they ended up in Chernobog, nobody knew.

"Mia! That guy is being threatened by a gang! We have to save him!"

Beagle nodded resolutely. "Got it."

She grabbed a nearby trash can lid as a makeshift shield, while Kroos drew her short crossbow, stepping cautiously into the alley.

With her voice shaking slightly, she aimed the weapon at Vina.

"You! Drop your weapon and let him go!"

Beagle echoed, "Put it down!"

Yoren stood frozen. The two of them were trying so hard, but… the sight was almost comical.

Vina turned slowly, eyes glowing red in the dim light. The air grew heavy with an unmistakable, bloodthirsty presence.

"You two brats had better mind your own business—or I'll rip you to pieces."

"AHHHH!!!"

Kroos and Beagle screamed.

"Uh… excuse us—"

"GOODBYE!"

Beagle flung the trash can lid aside and bolted, Kroos hot on her heels.

Yoren was left standing in stunned silence.

"...Hey, are you giving up already?! I think I could've salvaged that!"

Kroos barely glanced back as she shouted over her shoulder.

"Try to hold on! We'll call the military police! Kroos loves you!"

As their voices faded into the distance, the alley once again fell into quiet.

Vina slung the hammer over her shoulder, unimpressed.

"We need to leave."

"We?"

"Yeah. After what you just said, I've decided to let you live. But—I can't just let you run around freely."

Yoren hesitated. "Then… what are you gonna do with me?"

Vina flashed a wide, fanged grin.

"Easy. I'm recruiting you. Congratulations—you're now a member of the Glasgow Gang!"

"...Huh?!"

Vina clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You got two options. One—join the gang. Two—I hit you hard enough to make you forget this conversation. Your choice."

Yoren straightened his clothes and bowed deeply.

"Hello, Boss."

---

Joining the Glasgow Gang didn't seem like the worst outcome.

Yoren was a complete illegal resident now, no home, no status. He had no idea where his next meal was coming from, let alone how he was supposed to change the future and save Amiya. Right now, survival was his priority.

And if that meant sticking close to the King of Advancement, then so be it. At the very least, she could be his key to fully stepping into the world of Terra.

Vina grabbed Yoren's hand and led him cautiously out of the alley.

The warmth of her grip caught him off guard. Small, but strong. A firm, unwavering hold. A strange thrill ran through him.

How would he even explain this to someone? A few hours ago, he had been a nameless nobody in a classroom, mocked for failing to pull a powerful Operator in a gacha game. And now? He was holding Vina's hand.

He almost wanted to laugh.

They crossed a few streets, the crowds thinning as they moved deeper into the outskirts of the city.

Finally, Vina released his hand.

"This should be far enough. No military patrols around here."

Yoren flexed his fingers absentmindedly. "You know Chernobog well."

"If I'm working here, I need to know the layout. I'm not scared of the authorities, but avoiding them means less trouble. Besides…" Her expression darkened slightly. "One of my men is infected."

That was fair. The Glasgow Gang was a foreign presence here. Keeping a low profile was just common sense.

They walked in step, side by side.

"Where are we going now?"

"Our temporary base. That's where everyone is."

Yoren hesitated for a moment, then asked the question that had been nagging him since Winter brought it up.

"Vina, about what you and Winter were talking about… Are we really smuggling Originium?"

He still wasn't sure of Originium's exact worth, but given its destructive potential, it had to be more valuable than gold, oil—probably even more than drugs.

Vina glanced around, making sure they were alone before answering.

"That's right. Right now, it's our biggest business. Ursus has strict control over Originium. Every single shard, from mining to distribution, is tracked. That means no one outside of the government is supposed to get their hands on it."

"So you smuggle it in from Victoria?"

"Yeah."

"But Victoria also regulates Originium, doesn't it? How do you even get it?"

Originium was a highly dangerous material. If he had to compare it to anything from his own world, it was probably closest to nuclear fuel. No country would let civilians handle something that hazardous.

Not to mention, exposure to its radiation caused Oripathy—an incurable, fatal disease.

Vina, however, spoke of it casually.

"We have different sources. Sometimes we buy from the black market. Sometimes we bribe the right people and get it out of government stockpiles."

"…That's it?"

Vina smirked. "Of course not. Our biggest supply comes from robbery."

Yoren choked on his own spit. Coughing, he looked at her in disbelief.

"Robbery?! You mean, like, storming a government facility with guns?!"

"There's no Originium in government buildings."

"Then… where the hell are you stealing it from?!"

The corner of Vina's mouth curled into a devil-may-care grin.

"There's one place where massive amounts of Originium are produced on a regular basis."

Realization dawned on Yoren.

"The aftermath of natural disasters?"

"Exactly."

That made sense. The easiest way to get something valuable was to go straight to its source.

Vina nodded approvingly. "We can't fight over Originium after a disaster hits a major city. Governments predict these events in advance and evacuate. They bring in military forces and mining crews. We wouldn't stand a chance."

"So where do you steal it from?"

"Well, large cities have disaster forecasts. But natural disasters don't exactly follow human convenience."

She tilted her head, her grin widening.

"If a disaster hits a remote area, or no-man's land near disputed borders… that's when things get interesting. Countries and private forces scramble to claim the raw Originium deposits. That's when we strike—right in the chaos."

Yoren exhaled slowly. It made sense. Ruthless, but logical.

This world had been reshaped by Originium. It had created everything—profit, power, suffering, war.

And, of course—the infected.

No matter how much people feared it, they would never stop fighting over it. Even knowing what it did to human bodies, they still chased it like fools.

Yoren turned to Vina.

"Aren't you afraid of getting infected?"

Vina snorted. "Everyone's scared of Oripathy. This time alone, two of my men caught it."

She rested her hammer on her shoulder and smirked.

"But someone's gotta do this job. If it's not us, it'll be someone else. And I, Vina, don't fear Oripathy. If I get it one day, then that's just my fate."

Yoren understood. The world wasn't kind. If you wanted something, you had to pay the price.

Originium pushed civilization forward, but it left corpses in its wake. The powerful profited, and the weak paid with their lives. That was the law of survival here.

Amiya knew this, too. She had seen firsthand how the world treated the infected. The more she tried to change things, the more she would suffer for it.

And one day, if nothing changed, it would destroy her.

The atmosphere between them grew heavy. Yoren forced a grin and changed the subject.

"So… where exactly is our base?"

"Just ahead. We're almost there."

—

Ten minutes later, they arrived at a secluded three-story villa.

Yoren whistled. "Damn. You guys are living good."

It was remote, sure, but one look at the place told him it was expensive. Way out of reach for most people in Chernobog.

"As expected of a famous gang. The Glasgow Gang's loaded."

Vina walked up and knocked lightly.

"Who is it?"

"It's me. Open up."

The door swung open.

A tall, silver-haired woman stood in the doorway, scars lining her face. Filin, unmistakably so. Messy hair, sharp ears and tail, clad in tight leather and boots. She exuded strength and attitude.

Her golden eyes flicked to Yoren. She raised an eyebrow.

"Vina. Who's the kid?"

Vina shrugged. "New recruit."

"…Huh?"

Yoren stared at her, something about her felt familiar, but he couldn't place it.

He smiled awkwardly and extended a hand. "Uh, hey. I'm Yoren. And you are—"

Bang!

The woman slapped his hand away, smirking.

"Indra. And I don't do handshakes." She crossed her arms, eyes gleaming with amusement. "These hands? Only good for fighting."

Yoren's stomach dropped at her next words.

"Welcome to the gang, rookie. From now on, you're at the very bottom of the Glasgow Gang."

Yoren groaned internally.

He had just joined, and he was already the lowest-ranked member. Great start.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 7

After hearing her words, Yoren finally realized who this silver-haired Filin woman was.

She was—

Indra.

Holy hell. This was what it meant to be truly blessed.

Forget Exusiai. Forget Nearl. Forget SilverAsh. Indra was the Public Recruitment Limited Operator. The unicorn that players spent years trying to pull and never saw.

And she was standing right in front of him.

"Hey, why are you so skinny? Don't you fight?"

Before Yoren could answer, Indra stepped up and clapped him on the back—

"Puff, puff, puff!"

Yoren staggered forward, nearly coughing up blood.

"B-Big sister, could you please not hit me so hard? I'm more of a strategist, y'know? You do the fighting, I'll cheer you on from the back."

Indra clicked her tongue, unimpressed. "Tch. So you're just a wimp. Boring."

Without another glance, she turned and strode into the villa.

Vina chuckled. "Don't take it personally. Indra's like that with everyone. Give it time, and you'll see—she's reliable. You can trust her."

Yoren rubbed his sore back, offering a weak smile. "Yeah. Sure."


—

Inside the villa's living room, five or six people lounged on the sofas. Their hardened expressions and battle-worn bodies made it clear—they weren't just gangsters. They were survivors.

Compared to these guys, even Indra, Vina almost looked… cute.

Almost.

But that cute little lion was their boss.

Vina leaned in toward Indra, her voice low. "Did you find the other one?"

Indra exhaled, arms crossed. "Yeah. Just brought him back. He's upstairs."

"He's infected too?"

"Judging by the symptoms? Yeah. He's got Oripathy."

Vina lowered her head, her fists clenched.

"This is my fault. I wasn't careful enough."

Indra rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Vina, this isn't on you. We don't have proper transport methods for Originium, and our protection measures aren't foolproof. Nobody wants this to happen. But it has, and now we deal with it."

She gave her a firm pat. "So stop blaming yourself. That's not like you."

Vina took a slow breath. The guilt in her eyes faded, replaced by something harder—something unbreakable.

She wasn't just their leader. She was their shield.

Through all this, Yoren watched her closely.

She wasn't like the ruthless crime bosses of fiction. She wasn't running this gang for power or wealth. When her men fell, she went to save them, even at the risk of exposing their operations.

Even if they were infected.

Even if the world turned against them.

This was the King of Advancement.

Against her enemies, she never yielded. Against her friends, she never turned her back.


—

The tension in the living room was thick. Clearly, this latest smuggling run hadn't gone as planned.

Some gang members sat with eyes closed, others smoked in grim silence, a few whispered among themselves.

Vina grabbed an ornate wine bottle, took a slow sip, and turned to face the room.

"Kate, did we recover all the lost goods?"

A burly man with a cigarette hanging from his lips let out a long exhale. "No. The Qiecheng military police got there before we could."

"What's the damage?"

Kate's face darkened. "Bad. Two men infected. And Jill was carrying twenty-eight processed Originium stones when he got caught. All confiscated."

A heavy silence fell.

Vina took a deep breath. "How much do we have left?"

Kate ground out his cigarette in an ashtray. "We started with fifty-two. Customs seized eleven when we crossed the border. Now, with Jill's stash gone? We don't have enough to finish the deal."

CRACK.

Vina's grip tightened around her glass—

And shattered it.

Behind her, Yoren started doing mental math on his fingers.

Fifty-two total, minus twenty-eight, minus eleven…

Wait a minute.

That left them with thirteen.

Thirteen stones left.

…That was an eighty percent loss. Holy shit.

Yoren swallowed nervously. He had just joined the gang, and they were already taking massive financial hits. This wasn't exactly the morale boost he was hoping for.

As Vina and the others debated next steps, he awkwardly stood there, not even sure if it was appropriate to ask where the bathroom was.

Finally, after half an hour of tense discussion, Yoren couldn't hold back anymore.

"Uh… can I interrupt for a second?"

A bearded man cast him a sideways glance. "You're new, huh? You got an idea?"

"I—uh. Not exactly. I just wanted to ask…

Have you guys eaten dinner?

Dead silence.

All eyes snapped to him. The weight of their stares made his soul shrink.

Yoren gulped.

Okay. Maybe not the right question.

Vina let out a sigh and stretched. "Alright. That's enough for today. We'll come up with a plan tomorrow. Everyone get some rest."

The tension finally eased as the gang dispersed.

Before Yoren could slip away, Vina grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

Before she could say anything, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Uh, sorry. That was probably not the right time to ask about food, huh?"

Instead of scolding him, Vina just laughed.

"It's fine. We're not that serious here. We're more like family than a business, really."

Then she tilted her head. "But speaking of food… you must be hungry."

"Kind of…"

He had literally been pulled into this world straight from school. It had been hours since he last ate.

Vina crossed her arms, thinking. "Most of the others already ate, and I don't usually have dinner myself."

She snapped her fingers. "How about this? I'll make you some noodles."

Yoren blinked. "Wait, you cook?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Why, you wanna cook it yourself?"

He shook his head so fast it nearly snapped off his neck.

"Absolutely not. If the great Vina is offering to cook for me, I'd be an idiot to refuse."

Are you kidding me? A meal cooked by Miss Wang herself? That was rarer than pulling a six-star Operator!

'Need..."

---

Vina slipped into a pair of slippers, the soft fabric muffling her steps. Her legs, wrapped in snug shorts, were toned and smooth, her fair skin catching the dim kitchen light.

Casually, she shrugged off her black coat, revealing the tight white vest underneath. Without hesitation, she stepped into the kitchen and reached for an apron hanging on the wall—a simple one, printed with a little lion.

"Yoren, come tie this for me."

Holy shit.

Hot pants. Long legs. A fitted vest. That slightly messy golden ponytail.

Gone was the ferocious, battle-worn King of Advancement. Right now, she looked young, girlish, but with the apron on, she also carried the quiet charm of a woman who had long learned to fend for herself.

This—this was lethal.

9999 points of critical emotional damage to Yoren's fragile otaku heart.

If his best friend Zhang Yuan saw this, saw him standing right here, about to eat a meal personally made by the King of Advancement, that guy would die from sheer envy.

"Oi! What are you grinning at?" Vina turned, hands on her hips. "Come tie it."

"R-Right! On it!"

His fingers brushed against the fabric, and through it, he could feel her warmth. It was nothing, really. Just a simple touch. But still—

He quickly finished tying the apron, clearing his throat. "Done."

"Good."

Vina turned to the stove, pouring water into a pot, then methodically setting out ingredients. Judging by how smooth her movements were, she had clearly done this before.

Yoren hesitated, then asked, "Vina, do you cook often?"

"Not really. Only when things are calm in the gang."

"Where'd you learn?"

Vina stilled for half a second.

Her expression darkened, just slightly.

"I had to learn," she said. "Back before I joined the Glasgow Gang… survival wasn't easy. Knowing how to build a fire, find food, cook what little I had—that was just part of staying alive."

Yoren frowned. The way she said it—so matter-of-fact, yet laced with something deeper—made him uneasy.

He swallowed. "Vina… what happened before you joined Glasgow?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she picked up the knife and started slicing vegetables with slow, measured precision.

"…None of your business."

Yoren opened his mouth, then immediately shut it. He had clearly hit a wall.

A chill ran down his spine. Something cold, dangerous, curled around the back of his neck like an unseen predator.

A voice, low and amused, whispered behind him.

"Kid… you should watch that mouth of yours. Don't go poking where you shouldn't, unless you've got a death wish."

Yoren didn't need to turn around to know it was Indra. The sheer murderous aura pouring off her was enough to make his body instinctively inch toward the wall.

"G-Got it. No more questions."

He could feel Indra smirking before she finally pulled away, her presence retreating like a storm moving past.

Even though he had conceded, something in Yoren still felt dissatisfied.

He thought back to everything he knew about Vina.

Her past had been a mystery in the original records. Most of her personal history was missing. But there were hints, scattered throughout.

In Rhodes Island's archives, one particular quote stood out:


— That's where the sun rises. Beyond sight, my homeland is there… Perhaps I will never be able to return. —


If he had to guess, her hometown was probably Victoria's capital—Londinium.

Something must have happened there. Something so massive that she could never return, leaving her to wander through life until she found herself leading the Glasgow Gang.

But what?

His head ached.

He wanted to piece it together. Wanted to know. Not just for curiosity's sake, but because he liked understanding the Operators he had cared about for so long.

But right now, he was powerless.

For now, all he could do was observe.

And the more he observed, the more questions piled up.

He needed to understand the factions in play. He needed to find the Operators who would shape the future. This was three years before the Chernobog Riots—if he could, he wanted to dig into the roots of the Reunion Movement.

Ultimately, he wanted to save Amiya.

But how?


—


【Save Everyone】

That was her dream. Her ideal.

But ideals alone weren't enough. What was her actual plan?

If he thought about it, Amiya wasn't as naive as she seemed. She had to know things—things about Terra that even most leaders didn't fully grasp.

There was one particular group that stood out among all the factions.

BABEL.

The name came from the biblical Tower of Babel—humanity's failed attempt to reach the heavens, shattered when their common language was taken away, leaving them divided.

And in Terra, the real Babel had fallen. Their records erased. Their purpose a mystery.

But what if… Amiya's true goal was to rebuild it?

To resist fate itself—to resist the natural disasters that had shaped this world?

What if her dream was to lead all people—infected and uninfected alike—toward a future without disasters?

And if that was true…

Then Rhodes Island was never just a medical organization.

Its goal was never just to treat the infected.

It was the new Babel.

The Tower of Babel in legend had required all of humanity to stand together in unity. In Terra, that meant every race.

But in the legend, their unity was shattered when their common language was stolen.

And in Terra…

Their unity was shattered by Originium.

Originium fueled civilization, but also disease. It gave nations power, but also divided them. It was the root of everything—of progress, of war, of suffering.

And at the heart of it all, Rhodes Island stood as the ark to carry them forward.

If all of this was true, then Amiya's dream wasn't just dangerous.

It was revolutionary.

Enough to shake Terra itself.

And if she truly meant to see it through…

Then there was a very real chance that she would sacrifice herself to make it happen.

Yoren broke out in a cold sweat.

No. No, that couldn't happen.

If Amiya activated her Chimera—if she burned herself out for this plan—

He wouldn't let her.

His thoughts spiraled further.

So far, every Operator he had met—Winter, Vina, Kroos—they had all aligned with the records he knew.

But then, that meant there was still one missing piece.

The Doctor.

If this was a game, then the Doctor was him—the player. The commander behind every decision.

But this wasn't a game.

This was Terra. This was real.

So then…

Who the hell was the Doctor?

And even more chilling—


Did the Doctor even exist?

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 8

The world was falling apart. Before the last sunset sank below the horizon, someone had to step forward—someone had to light the torch and guide the lost through the darkness, waiting for the dawn.

Yes, Amiya would lead the people of this world to build a tower that reached for the heavens.

But.

All things cycle between creation and destruction. Civilizations rise, and inevitably, they fall. An era will always meet its end, and in its destruction, the seeds of rebirth are sown.

Tallulah must have understood this.

It was entirely possible that her goal wasn't so different from Amiya's. The only difference was how she chose to achieve it.

She wanted to be a creator, but to do so, she had to be a destroyer. She wanted to tear down this world where the infected were trampled beneath the boots of the privileged. And when everything was reduced to ash—only then could something new be born.


—


"Yoren. Yoren!"

A sharp pain jolted him back to reality.

Indra had kicked him in the backside, her expression unimpressed.

"What the hell are you daydreaming about? Didn't you hear Vina calling you?"

"Oh—uh, sorry. Got lost in thought."

Vina placed a steaming bowl of noodles on the table, the aroma rich and inviting.

"It's ready. Come eat."

Yoren didn't need to be told twice. "Thanks."

Indra stood off to the side, arms crossed. "Tch. You're damn lucky, kid. Vina's cooked for me maybe three times in all these years."

Yoren just grinned. "Heh."

Vina poured two glasses of wine, handing one to Indra before lifting hers in a casual toast.

"When we get back to Victoria, we'll throw a party at my place. I'll cook for everyone."

Indra smirked. "Now that I'll look forward to."

Vina glanced at Yoren, who was shoveling noodles into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days.

"You too. You're coming."

Yoren gave her a thumbs-up between bites.

She wasn't normally this generous to newcomers. Hell, she wasn't even this nice to most of her own gang members. But there was something about Yoren that felt different—something she couldn't quite put into words.

Like a candle burning in a storm. Small. Fragile. But still… there.

She still didn't fully understand what he had meant by the Integration Movement, but when he said that three years from now, Tallulah's uprising would shake the world to its core—

She believed him.

Because if an army of infected, united under a single cause, truly rose up against the world…

It wouldn't just be war. It would be cataclysmic.

The world saw Oripathy as a death sentence. Once infected, the Originium fused into the bloodstream, corroding the body, shutting down organs one by one. Without proper treatment, the infected would die within years, and even their corpses would become a source of further contamination.

But few people knew the other side of the disease.

For a rare few, Oripathy wasn't just destruction.

It was power.

Those whose bodies reached a high degree of fusion with Originium gained abilities beyond human limits—abilities so potent they could rival an entire army.

If the Integration Movement gathered enough of these infected, and Tallulah led them to war—

It would change the world forever.

Vina clenched her fists beneath the table.

She loved her homeland. She had vowed to protect it. And she would not let the darkness swallow Londinium whole.

The gears of fate had already begun to turn.

And she was determined to stand in their way.


—


"Yoren."

He looked up from his empty bowl, meeting Vina's gaze.

"…Will there really be a rabbit in three years? Someone whose ideal is to save everyone?"

He swallowed his last bite and grinned.

"Yeah. And she'll prove it—not with words, but with actions. She'll build something to carry people through the darkness—an ark that will sail toward the future."

Vina closed her eyes for a moment. Then, slowly, she exhaled.

"…If that's true." Her voice was quiet but steady. "Then I, Vina, swear to be one of her knights. I'll protect that Ark with my life."

Yoren nodded. "Good."

Indra, who had been listening, finally scoffed. "Alright, what the hell are you two talking about? Rabbits? Arks? I feel like I just walked into a cult."

Yoren pointed his chopsticks at her. "You'll get it eventually. And you too—three years from now, you'll be standing on that Ark, whether you believe it or not."

Indra rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I ain't no knight, though. I just know how to punch things."

"Tsk, and you wonder why you're single, Indra-chan."

Indra cracked her knuckles. "You tired of living?"

"…I take it back."

Vina stretched, setting down her glass. "Alright, enough. Finish up and get some rest. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

Yoren slurped down the last of his broth and let out a satisfied sigh.

And then—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The room fell into sudden silence.

The casual atmosphere vanished.

Vina's expression darkened. Indra narrowed her eyes.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The gang members who had already gone to bed immediately reappeared, weapons in hand, their bodies tense.

The location of this villa was remote—no one outside of the Glasgow Gang should even know about it. And it was already late.

Whoever was at the door…

They weren't here for a friendly visit.

Vina's ponytail bristled. "That bitch Winter—did she sell us out?"

Yoren immediately held up his hands. "Wait, no way. Winter wouldn't do that. I know her."

"You sure?"

"I'll vouch for her."

Indra scoffed. "How much is your word worth?" She picked up a chair and lifted it like a weapon. "If it's trouble, it's trouble. No point in overthinking it. Vina, we've only got one choice."

She cracked her knuckles. "We fight."

A chorus of voices rose behind her.

"Yeah!!"

Weapons were drawn. Knives. Pipes. Brass knuckles. The tension in the room thickened, a killing aura spreading through the air.

Vina stuffed a lollipop into her mouth, grabbed her Contract Victory Hammer, and spat out the stick.

"Get ready."

"KILL!!"

Yoren, sensing impending disaster, quickly stepped in front of the door. "Wait, wait, WAIT—think for a second!"

Indra raised a brow. "What, you scared?"

"No, I'm thinking. If it were the military police, do you really think they'd be polite enough to knock first?"

Silence.

The gang members exchanged glances.

"…Shit."

"…That's a good point."

Yoren sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay, finally. Now, just stay put. I'll open it."

Vina folded her arms. "You sure about this?"

Yoren smirked. "What if it's just someone collecting the water bill?"

No one laughed.

Slowly, he reached for the handle, bracing himself.

And then, with a deep breath, he opened the door.

---

Yoren's optimism was shining at full force.

Compared to standing barefoot in the street on the day he arrived in this world, he now had shelter, food, and—most importantly—reliable allies. With Vina and Indra here, he wasn't worried. No matter what happened, they'd find a way through.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound was soft but strangely deliberate.

Yoren leaned in, pressing his ear against the door. "Who is it?"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

No answer. Just the same steady rhythm.

Yoren frowned but didn't hesitate. He reached for the handle and swung the door open.

And then—

He froze.

Standing there was a petite girl, barely 1.5 meters tall, with light blue hair and round bear-like ears poking out from her head. She wore a monocle over one eye and cradled a book in her arms, her school uniform slightly too big for her small frame.

She looked up at him, eyes calm and unreadable.

"I am—"

BANG!

Yoren slammed the door shut.

Oh, hell no.

The gang members in the living room tensed, hands gripping their weapons. Vina narrowed her eyes, hammer at the ready. "Who was it?"

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Yoren groaned. There was no getting out of this.

With great reluctance, he reopened the door.

The girl had not moved. She simply blinked up at him, completely unfazed.

"Why are you here?" he demanded.

"I was passing by."

"…At this hour?"

She tilted her head slightly. "I sensed unusual electromagnetic waves. I wanted to investigate."

Yoren felt a migraine forming. "Truth, I advise you to leave."

"How do you know my name?"

There it was—the question he'd been dreading.

Because the little girl standing in front of him, the one who looked like a harmless middle schooler, was Truth—one of the members of the Ursus Student Autonomous Group.

She might have been young, but that didn't make her any less dangerous. Unlike Winter, who was all brute force and instinct, Truth was a genius. She was well-versed in literature, war history, cryptology, and even advanced Originium research. A prodigy with a razor-sharp mind.

Yoren knew for a fact that dealing with her would be more exhausting than any fistfight with Winter.

He forced a casual shrug. "I know Winter. She mentioned you."

Truth adjusted her monocle. "Winter may have told you my name, but how did you recognize me?"

"Uh—she showed me a picture."

"I don't recall ever posing for a photograph. Describe it to me."

Oh my god.

Yoren braced himself against the doorframe, exhaling sharply. "Look, just take my word for it and go home."

"Why?"

"This isn't the place for you."

"Is this your home?"

"…Sort of."

"Then why isn't it a place for me?"

"It's—dangerous."

Truth's expression remained neutral. "That is an unusual answer. I am a legal citizen of Chernobog. My safety is protected under city law. If you claim this place is dangerous, it would be appropriate for me to call the authorities to ensure public safety."

Yoren clenched his teeth.

He was this close to picking her up and launching her into the night like a football.

He tried one last time. "Truth, I'm warning you. If you come in, things might not end well for you."

"Why?"

"Because—"

"What do you intend to do to me? What are you hiding?"

"AHHHH!"

Yoren's patience snapped like a twig.

There was no reasoning with her.

No.

Reasoning with her was impossible.

She wasn't scared of threats. She wasn't swayed by intimidation. She was pure logic, and if something didn't add up, she would chase the answer down like a bloodhound.

Yoren was not equipped to handle this level of mental warfare.

In a last-ditch effort, he scowled and growled, "Listen, you little brat, get lost before I—"

Before he could finish, Truth pulled a phone from her bag.

"If my doubts are not answered, I will be unable to sleep tonight. If I cannot sleep, it will affect my productivity. As such, I believe it is necessary to report this situation to the military police."

SHE DIALED THE NUMBER.

A voice picked up almost immediately. "Hello, this is the Qiecheng Security Office. What's the situation?"

"Hello, I am currently located at—mmmf!"

Yoren lunged.

One hand clamped over her mouth, the other grabbed her phone. He yanked it away and spoke quickly into the receiver.

"Ahaha, hi, officers! Tough job working so late! On behalf of Chernobog's citizens, I just wanna say—thank you! Remember to stay warm and drink lots of hot tea! Okay, goodnight, bye!"

He hung up and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Then he turned to Truth, his eye twitching.

"…What the hell is wrong with you?"

Truth calmly adjusted her uniform. "Give me back my phone."

Vina's voice cut through the air from inside the villa.

"Yoren. Who are you talking to?"

His stomach dropped.

Damn it.

There was no avoiding it now.

Gritting his teeth, he handed Truth's phone back to her and sighed. "Fine. You wanna see what's inside? Then don't say I didn't warn you."

Truth blinked at him. Then, without a word, she stepped inside.


—

One minute later.

Truth stood in the center of the living room, still as a statue.

Surrounding her was a wall of gangsters.

Burly, scarred men, all gripping weapons, their expressions murderous. Indra stood with her arms crossed, radiating menace. Vina leaned against the wall, her Contract Victory Hammer resting on her shoulder, the lollipop in her mouth clicking against her teeth.

She stared at Truth like a lion eyeing a particularly annoying rabbit.

Her voice was dangerously low.

"Yoren."

Yoren stiffened.

"…Explain to me why you let her in."

 

[Raphiel]

"…Explain to me why you let her in."

Click to shrink...

She was going to call the cops because I wouldn't let her in.
Honest, concise, the perfect answer.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 9

At this moment, the living room—neither too large nor too small—felt like it had been split into two opposing worlds, stark as black and white.

On one side stood Vina, Indra, and the rest of the Glasgow Gang, their expressions dark and murderous. A suffocating tension hung in the air, like a storm on the verge of breaking. Behind them, the shadows seemed to deepen, an unspoken threat lingering in the room.

On the other side, standing alone, was Truth—a small, frail-looking Ursus girl clutching a book to her chest, her light blue hair falling neatly over her shoulders. She looked more like a lost schoolkid than someone who had just walked into the lion's den.

And in the middle, caught between two worlds, was Yoren.

Bang!

The sharp crack of breaking glass shattered the silence.

undra had slammed her cup against the table, eyes burning with fury. "Yoren, who the hell is this kid?! Why did you let a damn primary schooler in? Have you lost your mind?!"

"I…"

Vina didn't wait for an answer. With a quick nod, she signaled to Kate, one of the gang members nearby.

Kate moved without a word, stepping quietly toward the entrance.

Click.

The door was locked.

Then Kate planted himself firmly in front of it, arms crossed, body blocking any possible escape.

Yoren felt his stomach drop.

Shit. This was bad. This wasn't just "scare the kid" levels of bad—this was witness elimination levels of bad.

Instinctively, Yoren stepped back, positioning himself between Truth and the rest of the gang. His hands were steady, but inside, his mind was racing.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," he said, forcing a chuckle. "You're seriously not gonna rough up a middle schooler, are you?"

Vina's golden eyes flickered. "Yoren," she said, her tone cold, "whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of not committing murder tonight?"

She adjusted the hammer on her shoulder. "Only those who survive get to talk about right and wrong. That kid saw things she shouldn't have. Get out of the way."

"Wait! Wait a second!" Yoren's mind raced. He had to talk them down—fast.

"She's just a student! She was just… passing by! She got curious and asked for some water, that's all! She's a kid, she doesn't know anything."

Truth, still flipping through her book, corrected him flatly. "I'm not a primary schooler. I'm a middle school student."

"…Shut up."

Yoren turned back to Vina, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "Vina, think about this. If she disappears, someone will come looking. She probably walks the same route home every night. Her family would report her missing. And then the military police start sniffing around."

Vina's expression remained unreadable, but she didn't interrupt.

"And that's not even the biggest problem," Yoren added carefully. "She's—Winter's friend."

That did it.

Vina's eye twitched. She let out a slow breath through her nose, weighing the new information.

"…So what do you suggest?"

Yoren exhaled in relief. "Just… feed her some bullshit. Tell her we're a traveling theater troupe from Victoria, rehearsing for a play. The weapons are props. The scary dudes are actors. Give her some food, send her on her way. She'll forget about it."

Vina studied him, then sighed. "You really think that'll work?"

"Trust me. She just needs an answer that satisfies her curiosity."

"…Fine." Vina turned to the rest of the gang, motioning for them to stand down.

Weapons were lowered, and the atmosphere in the room shifted—just slightly.

Yoren forced a casual grin, scratching his head. "Haha… yeah, uh, you caught us. We're just actors! Doing, you know, actor stuff. Right, guys?"

Truth stared blankly. "It smells like blood."

Yoren nearly choked.

"What? No, no, that's just—uh—"

"I have a strong sense of smell," Truth interrupted. "Someone is injured in this house."

"Ahaha, yeah! That's true! One of the… actors cut his finger during rehearsal. But don't worry, he put a Band-Aid on it!"

Truth blinked. "Are you all really actors?"

"Of course!"

She lowered her book, adjusting her monocle. "You're lying."

Yoren tensed. "H-huh?"

Truth's voice was as calm as ever. "While speaking, your eyes moved to the upper right—a common sign of fabrication. Your speech pattern also changed, and you repeatedly touched your face and scratched your head—subconscious nervous gestures."

Yoren's stomach dropped.

Truth continued, "Additionally, you referred to everyone here as 'they' instead of 'we.' They're having a party. They're rehearsing a play. You unconsciously excluded yourself from the lie."

A bead of sweat ran down Yoren's temple.

His eyes darted down to the title of the book she was holding.

"Detective Corgi."

Oh, hell no.

Yoren ripped the book out of her hands. "Detective Corgi?! Are you serious?! Stop reading this garbage, it's poisoning your mind!"

Truth calmly plucked the book back from him. "Give it back."

Vina's voice cut in, sharp and serious. "Yoren. Is this working or not?"

He swallowed. "Uh… probably?"

Vina exhaled, stepping forward until she was face to face with Truth. The young girl barely came up to her waist, but her posture remained steady.

Vina crouched slightly, golden eyes gleaming. "Alright, kid. Let's test you. Tell me—what did you see here tonight?"

Yoren discreetly motioned at Truth, practically screaming with his eyes: SAY SOMETHING NORMAL.

Truth gazed at Vina, unfazed.

Then, she opened her mouth.

"I suspect you are holding an illegal assembly, and that there is a seriously injured person in this house. I also detected unusual energy fluctuations. Given the readings, you are storing a semi-processed Originium supply."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Truth continued in the same neutral tone. "The estimated amount of Originium in this building is over 7,000 grams. You have not properly isolated it, which increases the risk of Oripathy. Additionally, based on the distinct scent of blood in the air, I conclude that at least one person in this house has already been infected."

The air turned ice cold.

The gang members stiffened.

Vina's expression darkened.

Indra cracked her knuckles, her grin sharp as a blade.

Yoren slowly crouched on the floor, head in his hands, whispering to himself like a broken man.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Why are you like this?

His inner voice was screaming:

GAHHHHHHH!

---

Truth was an absolute menace.

Yoren crouched on the floor, holding his head in despair. Influenced by that damn detective novel, Truth had just confidently deduced everything—and she was right.

It was almost impressive. Almost.

A real detective, however, only revealed the truth when they were certain of victory. Truth? She just laid it all out like she was reciting a grocery list.

Vina's jaw tightened as she hissed through clenched teeth.

"You little brat... you're with the Chernobog military, aren't you? They've been onto us this whole time!"

"No," Truth replied flatly, turning a page in her book. "I'm just an ordinary student."

Crack!

Indra shattered a chair into splinters with a single punch, then picked up a jagged wooden shard and stepped toward Truth, her voice low and dangerous.

"No matter who you are, you're not walking out of here."

Yoren shot up from the floor. There was no way in hell he was letting Truth die here—not because of some noble sense of justice, but because, damn it, Truth was one of his favorite operators in the original world!

"Indra, stop—!"

Before he could finish, Indra's boot crashed into his ribs, launching him across the room like a ragdoll. He slammed into a couch with a thud, the impact pushing it a meter back. A sharp pain exploded in his side—probably bruised, maybe cracked. He groaned, trying to move.

And Truth?

She was still standing there, unfazed.

As if she hadn't just watched someone get sent flying across the room.

As if none of this even mattered to her.

Then—

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound of a ringing phone cut through the tension.

Truth calmly pulled out her cell, glanced at the screen, and pressed answer like this was just another normal evening.

The second the call connected, a booming voice erupted from the speaker—so loud, everyone in the room heard it crystal clear.

"TRUTH, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU? I'M AT YOUR DOOR. WHY ARE YOU WANDERING AROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?!"

It was Winter.

Vina's grip tightened on her hammer. Her golden eyes gleamed with warning.

"Hang up. Now. If you value your life."

Truth sighed, as if inconvenienced, and obediently ended the call.

Yoren, groaning, pushed himself up from the couch, moving next to Vina. His ribs protested, but he forced himself to focus.

"Vina, you cannot kill her." He kept his voice low. "I wasn't kidding before—this kid is Winter's best friend. If anything happens to her, Winter will tear this entire place apart looking for her."

Indra narrowed her eyes. "She didn't say her location. We still have time—"

"I already sent it."

Truth casually held up her phone, making a scissor-hand gesture.

The room exploded.

"FUCK!!"

"SHIT!!"

"DAMN IT!!"

Every gang member cursed in frustration, while Yoren—bruised, battered, and exhausted—let out the longest, deepest sigh of his life.

Winter was coming.

Indra and Kate turned to Vina, waiting for her decision.

Vina clawed at her golden hair in frustration. "AHHHH! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DEAL WITH THIS!!"

---

Ten minutes later.

BANG!

The door of the villa exploded inward, the sheer force sending it flying across the room until it smashed against the far wall.

At the threshold stood Winter—eyes blazing with fury, fists clenched so tightly her knuckles went white.

Vina, completely unfazed, leaned back on the couch and calmly took a sip of wine.

"Hey, you're here."

Winter said nothing. She just stalked forward, boots heavy against the wooden floor.

CRASH!

With one swift kick, Winter sent the wine glass shattering to the floor, its golden liquid splashing across Vina's front.

Indra immediately stood up, eyes burning with rage.

"You bitch—you wanna die?!"

"Indra, sit down."

Vina didn't even flinch. She wiped the alcohol off her clothes and finally stood to meet Winter face-to-face.

Yoren, still sore as hell, quickly stepped in. "Winter, please—calm down."

"Shut up." Winter didn't even look at him. Her entire focus was locked on Vina, her gaze sharp enough to cut through steel.

She stepped forward, their faces mere inches apart.

"Where. Is. Truth?"

Vina smirked. "Looks like Yoren was right. You really do care about that little gremlin."

"I'll ask you one more time—where is Truth?"

Vina took her time, studying Winter. "You're bold, coming here alone. Or did you bring the military police with you?"

Winter's fists trembled with restrained fury.

"I don't need anyone," she growled. "I am an army by myself."

Vina chuckled. "What a coincidence. So am I. So tell me—who's stronger? The lion or the bear?"

Winter's lips curled back in a snarl.

"No matter who it is—no matter how strong—if they piss me off, I'll tear them apart without a second thought."

Yoren swallowed hard. He knew she wasn't bluffing. If Winter lost control and activated her Ursus battle cry, this entire villa would turn into rubble.

The room crackled with tension. Every gang member braced for violence.

Then—

A calm voice spoke up from the corner.

"Winter, stop yelling."

The fire in Winter's eyes vanished in an instant.

She turned—and there, squatting against the wall, was Truth. Completely unharmed. A lollipop stuck in her mouth, flipping through her book like none of this concerned her.

"Truth—" Winter's voice softened. "You're okay?"

Truth finally looked up. "Of course. I'm a legal citizen of Chernobog, and my personal safety in the city is guaran—mmpfh?!"

Yoren clapped a hand over her mouth before she could finish that sentence.

He did not have the strength to hear it again.

Winter exhaled heavily, relief washing over her. She walked straight to Truth, taking the smaller girl's hand and pulling her into a protective embrace.

Then she turned back to Vina, fire reigniting in her glare.

"You bastards." Her voice dripped with venom. "Why did you try to kidnap her?"

The entire room snapped.

Every single person—including Yoren—inhaled deeply and shouted in unison:

"KIDNAP?! THIS LITTLE GREMLIN WALKED IN ON HER OWN!!"

 

[Raphiel]

Wait, I just realized. Why tf did this dumbass Vina try to kill Yoren??? Yeah I know she can't touch Winter, but frankly any impact Yoren has is vastly less than Winter. If Yoren wanted to sic people on the infected in the gang, he could have let Vina and Winter battle, bringing attention to the infected. If Yoren wanted people to know about the gang's presence, same shit. If Yoren had any bad intention, his action of stopping the fight is just not something that would happen.
Maybe Vina thinks Yoren wants to sell info about the gang's presence, thus needing them kept secret? Except who is he going to sell that info to? The average citizen? He just walked out of a pseudo-government building, if he was going to sell to the government, he already did it and Vina was too late. Killing him right out the gate? I highly doubt she can do that without attracting attention, especially if the officer she knocked out doesn't come back soon. And Vina will be their #1 suspect as Winter has info she kept to herself she would probably release given any more disturbance from the gang.

All in all, pretty shitty decision from a tactical standpoint and a emotional standpoint.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 10

After Yoren's explanation, Winter finally understood the whole story.

In reality, it wasn't that complicated. A curious kid had poked a hornet's nest, and just before the hornets retaliated, the kid's guardian arrived and smashed the entire nest apart.

Now, only a door frame remained of the villa's entrance. Yoren sat on the sofa as cold gusts of wind blew through the empty doorway.

"Winter, don't worry. If Rhodes Island ever kicks you out, you've got a bright future in demolition work. You've got the talent for it."

Winter sat stiffly in the corner of the sofa, her face red with embarrassment.

"I'll pay for the door."

Indra snorted. "Seems like the Ursus Student Self-Government Association has deep pockets. We're short on cash right now, so why not compensate us for emotional damages too?"

Winter said nothing.

Vina poured a glass of wine and held it out to Winter. "Try this. Victoria's finest red."

Winter shook her head. "I'm not of age."

Vina shrugged, took the glass back, and drank from it herself. "Winter, this whole mess was just a misunderstanding. We in the Glasgow Gang don't need you to compensate us for anything. But in return, I expect you not to get in our way in the future."

Winter sighed.

"I don't care what you do. Your gang must've taken a serious hit from this infected incident. You should leave Victoria before things get worse."

The gang members exchanged looks. They all knew she was right. This smuggling operation had gone sideways in the worst way possible.

Vina drained her glass, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "We'll handle our own losses. That's none of your concern, General Dong. If there's nothing else, I won't see you out."

Winter clicked her tongue in annoyance.

Zhenli, who had been quietly sucking on a lollipop, glanced up at Vina. "Your candy is good. A little too sour, though."

Vina chuckled, pulled a few more lollipops from her pocket, and dropped them into Zhenli's hands. "You'll get used to it. That's the taste of home."

"Thanks."

Winter sighed and turned to leave, pulling Zhenli along with her. But as she reached the broken doorway, she hesitated.

She stood there for a moment, as if debating something.

Then, with a deep breath, she turned back.

"Vina, consider this a thank-you for not hurting Zhenli. I have some intel for you. It might help you recover your losses."

Vina's eyes narrowed. "What intel?"

"At noon today, the Student Autonomous Group received reports of an unknown natural disaster at the northern border between Ursus and Kjerag. Later, I heard the same from the Che City Security Department. That confirms its authenticity."

The gang members immediately perked up. The room, once heavy with the weight of failure, buzzed with renewed energy.

Vina stepped forward quickly. "Do you know exactly when this disaster happened?"

"Not yet, but the preliminary estimate is about ten days ago."

"What about the location?"

"Still unclear. What we do know is that it happened in a remote area with no major cities nearby. A gray zone, outside any nation's control."

Vina smirked. "Which means…"

Winter met her gaze. "Which means whoever gets there first claims a massive Originium deposit."

Yoren leaned over to Kate, whispering, "Why is a ten-day-old disaster still up for grabs? Wouldn't other groups already be on it?"

Kate grinned, practically shaking with excitement. "You don't get it? After a natural disaster, Originium radiation is at its peak. Anyone who steps into the zone too soon has a 90% chance of contracting oripathy. It takes about two weeks for the radiation to weaken enough that people can enter safely. We're just hitting that window."

"Ah, I see now."

"Exactly. And since it happened in the middle of nowhere, only top-tier intelligence networks would even know about it. Governments move slow, and assembling a team takes time. If we move first, we claim it all."

Winter turned, waving as she exited. "I've given you the information. What you do with it is up to you."

As soon as she was gone, the entire living room erupted into cheers.

"Finally, some action!"

"Been too long since we've had a big operation like this!"

"Just thinking about it gets my blood pumping!"

Indra slammed a fist into her palm. "This'll make up for what we lost. Let's go, Glasgow Gang!"

Vina smirked. "Kate, contact Victoria HQ. Get intel from the underground network. I want the exact location of that disaster site by tomorrow noon."

"Got it."

"We're in Ursus, which gives us the advantage. If anyone gets there before us, well… we'll deal with it."

Indra leaned in. "Vina, we don't have time to call reinforcements from Victoria. Should we hire a local mercenary group to back us up?"

Vina nodded. "Good idea. Got any candidates?"

Before Indra could answer, Yoren shot his hand up.

"I know! If we're talking about top mercenaries, it's got to be Blacksteel International! Let's bring in Blacksteel!"

Vina and Indra turned to stare at him like he had just announced he wanted to hire the Emperor of Laterano.

Yoren hesitated. "What? Haven't you heard of Blacksteel?"

"We've heard of them," Vina deadpanned.

"Then why are you looking at me like I'm an idiot?"

Vina patted his shoulder with an almost sympathetic look. "Because Blacksteel is the most expensive mercenary group in the world. Even if this operation goes perfectly, every last ounce of our profits would go straight into their pockets."

Yoren blinked. "Wait… you mean even a major gang like Glasgow doesn't get discounts?"

Indra clapped him on the back. "Go to bed, kid. Dreams are free."

---

It was already late, and Kate found a few planks of wood to roughly repair the door that Winter had kicked in.

Vina waved a hand. "Get some sleep, everyone. Stay alert. We have a tough battle ahead."

"Yes!" The gang dispersed, their energy still charged from the night's events.

The villa had plenty of vacant rooms. Yoren chose one at random, not wanting to be disturbed by the snoring of burly men. He collapsed onto the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion, yet his mind refused to quiet.

Ursus, Chernobog, Winter, Vina, Indra, Kroos, Miguel…

It was all real. Every moment, every fight, every decision. The world of Terra, a place he had once only known from a game, was now his reality.

As his breathing slowed, sleep finally claimed him.

---

Yoren found himself standing in a vast desert. Before him loomed a colossal mobile fortress, its silhouette cutting across the burning sky like a ship adrift in a golden sea.

A shift in the air, and suddenly, he was standing on its top deck. A card, small and yellow, rested in his palm. Words glowed on its surface.

[Ten-Pull Recruitment Certificate]

A voice, deep and familiar, echoed from the sky.

"Blade Master, the contracts for the operators you've recruited have been delivered. Let's take a look."

A heavy black canvas bag thudded onto the deck beside him. Yoren clasped his hands together in silent prayer before reaching for the zipper. His fingers trembled slightly as they grasped the metal pull.

Slowly, cautiously, he unzipped the bag.

A blinding white light erupted from within.

Pure. Empty.

Nothing.

The world stood still.

Then, the realization hit.

"FUCK!" Yoren roared, kicking the bag with all his strength. "Not even a single four-star?! This has to be a joke!"

His voice cracked with frustration, echoing into the endless desert.

---

Yoren sat up abruptly, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding. His breath came fast and uneven.

A dream. Just a dream.

The morning sun streamed through the window. He ran a hand down his face, willing himself to shake off the lingering dread.

Stretching, he turned to roll out of bed—when his arm bumped into something on the floor.

Thud.

He glanced down.

A phone.

Not just any phone—his phone.

His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, as if afraid it would vanish, he reached down and picked it up. The familiar weight settled into his palm.

Desk, chair, posters—his posters. His room.

Outside the window, the usual street noise hummed in the distance. A delivery worker in uniform walked past, phone in hand.

"Hello, this is HungryMe delivery. Should I bring your order up, or will you come down to get it?"

Yoren sat frozen on his bed.

Back home?

No.

No… it couldn't be.

A bitter chuckle escaped him, low and hollow.

So it was all just a dream.

Vina. The Glasgow Gang. Ursus.

Gone.

---

Trying to shake off the weight pressing on his chest, he moved through the motions of his morning routine. A shower. A change of clothes. A quick glance at the clock—already 10 AM. He'd missed two classes. Not that it mattered.

By the time he arrived at university, the morning lecture was nearly over. He slipped into the back of the classroom, barely acknowledged by the professor's disapproving glance.

After class, his friend Zhang Yuan plopped onto his desk, grinning like an idiot.

"Yo, Yoren! What's with the dead fish look? Your ten-pull went to shit again?"

Yoren ignored him, staring blankly ahead.

Zhang Yuan, undeterred, waved a broomstick in his face, mimicking gunfire. "Applepie! Dadadada!"

Yoren sighed, pushing the broom away. "You're a grown man. Stop being an idiot."

Zhang Yuan blinked. "Damn, who pissed in your cereal?"

Yoren said nothing. His fingers moved on their own, unlocking his phone. Amiya's profile picture smiled back at him from the game's loading screen.

Arknights.

It felt… different. The interface, the icons—it all felt so fake, so lifeless.

"How many yellow tickets you got?" Zhang Yuan asked, scrolling through his own phone.

Yoren checked his inventory. "About 150."

"Damn, that's two ten-pulls. Go for it, man. Maybe today's your lucky day."

A group of students gathered around, eager to watch.

Yoren didn't care. He tapped the exchange button. Two ten-pull recruitment certificates appeared in his inventory.

"Come on, let's see it!" someone cheered.

He sighed and tapped the button.

A black recruitment bag thudded onto the screen. He swiped the zipper open without hesitation.

Golden light erupted from the screen, flames crackling within it.

Gasps echoed around him.

Then the cards appeared.

One.

Two.

Three…

Ten.

Ten identical golden cards.

Vina.

The King of Advancement.

The classroom fell silent.

Yoren stared at the screen, his expression unreadable.

Then, ever so slowly, he smiled.

A real smile.

Because at that moment, he knew.

It wasn't just a dream.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 11

Yoren's eyes were blank as he stared at his phone screen, utterly dazed. Ten identical Kings of Advancement lined up in perfect symmetry, their golden brilliance mocking him. His classmates crowded around him, gasping, shouting, filming—some out of awe, others out of sheer disbelief.

But Yoren couldn't hear them.

The vivid images from his dream flooded his mind.

Vina turned around, the strings of her apron dangling behind her. "Yoren, come tie this for me."

Vina set a bowl of steaming noodles in front of him, her smile warm and teasing. "It's ready. Eat up."

Vina raised her glass, golden hair glinting in the dim light. "When we get back to Victoria, I'll cook for everyone. You have to come too, Yoren."

The warmth in her voice. The scent of red wine. The crackling tension between her and Winter. The weight of Indra's hand on his shoulder.

It wasn't just a dream.

Zhang Yuan, ever the instigator, clutched his head in mock agony. "My eyes! My poor eyes! Yoren, are you hacking? Ten six-stars in one pull? And they're all Vina? Does she love you that much?"

Yoren forced a chuckle, trying to shake off the dissonance between the real world and the one he had just left behind. "Guess my luck finally turned."

"Turned? Bro, you just ascended to godhood!" Zhang Yuan laughed. "Come on, you've got another ten-pull. Let's see if Miss Wang's got a twin sister waiting for you."

With a resigned sigh, Yoren tapped the [Search Ten Times] button. The crowd held their breath as the black canvas bag landed on the screen. He unzipped it with practiced indifference.

Golden light shot up once again.

Silence.

Then—the unmistakable voice of a certain frostbitten bear.

"Winter, Ursus Student Self-Government…"

Again.

"Winter, Ursus Student Self-Government…"

Again.

"Winter, Ursus…"

Ten. All ten of them. The classroom erupted into chaos.

Zhang Yuan nearly fell out of his chair. "Yoren, did you piss off a bear god or something?"

A short, chubby classmate, Li Pi, who prided himself as the class's luckiest gacha player, suddenly looked pale. "I don't buy it. No way. This is rigged." His voice was shaking. "Yoren, you still have 600 Originite Prime left. Do another pull. If you get another gold, I swear on my life, I'll crush a durian with my ass."

Yoren exhaled. "I don't pick fights, but if fate forces my hand…" He tapped [Single Pull].

The backpack landed. The zipper unfastened.

Golden light flared once more.

Li Pi took a staggering step backward, clutching his rear end in terror.

[Operator Acquired: Zhenli]

The screen displayed the familiar genius, adjusting her monocle. "I'm Zhenli. I'm still a student, but I was recruited because I can use magic… Strange for a student to be standing in a place like this, isn't it?"

Yoren stared at the screen, an amused glint in his eye. "Zhenli, huh? You're here too."

Zhang Yuan strolled over to Li Pi, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder. "So, are you buying the durian, or are we crowdfunding it?"

At this point, the classroom had descended into madness. Students shoved their phones toward Yoren, their eyes glimmering with equal parts desperation and greed.

"Yoren, please, bless my ten-pull!"

"I'll top up right now if you pull for me!"

"Yoren, help me recruit! I only need one more six-star!"


Zhang Yuan rolled up his notebook like a microphone. "Alright, everyone, form a single-file line! No cutting! Li Pi, back of the line."

Yoren sighed, taking one classmate's phone. It was prepped for a ten-pull, everything set. He hesitated for a moment. Something didn't feel right. He wasn't supposed to be here. Or rather, something in him still wasn't fully back.

"Well, let me just say upfront—no guarantees," Yoren muttered.

The student beamed. "No worries! Just give me half your luck and I'll walk away with four or five six-stars."

"If you say so."

He tapped the screen. The backpack dropped.

The crowd fell silent, eyes locked on the screen.

Ten identical faces stared back at them.

Clos. All ten were Clos.

The student's smile twitched. "Yoren… buddy… did you mispronounce your spell?"

Yoren grimaced. "No spell involved, man. I did warn you."

The student let out a guttural scream, cradling his phone like a fallen comrade, then bolted from the classroom in tears.

The next few students hesitated. Yoren had gone from a divine hand to a cursed blade in a matter of minutes.

Finally, another trembling hand lifted a phone. Xu Huang stepped forward, swallowing hard. "Yoren… I believe in you."

Yoren sighed, accepting the phone. "Alright. Last one."

One pull.

The room fell deathly quiet.

The phone screen flashed.

Ten identical Beagles.

Xu Huang let out a strangled cry, then took off running, screaming down the hallway. "DAMN IT! TEN BEAGLES?! YOREN, I HATE YOU!!!"

---

Yoren had felt off since the moment he woke up, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong. It wasn't anything physical—at least, not at first. It was more like an itch at the back of his mind, a sense of disconnect, as if the world around him had lost something vital without him realizing it.

His classmates chattered in groups, some celebrating rare drops in their games, others lamenting their bad luck with gacha pulls. Outside, the midday sun hung high, bathing the city in golden light. It was the world he had known for eighteen years—a world of routine, of safety, of minor frustrations and fleeting joys.

And yet, why did it feel so... hollow?

A thought gnawed at him, persistent and unshakable.

There's something more than this. Something waiting for me.

---

Noon found Yoren on the rooftop of the school building, staring at the sky with a straw lazily hanging from his lips. A jet carved a perfect contrail through the endless blue. He didn't know why, but he felt like he was supposed to be somewhere else—like he had unfinished business in a place that didn't exist.

"Yoren! There you are, you bastard."

Zhang Yuan clambered onto the rooftop, balancing two grilled sausages wrapped in paper. He flopped down beside Yoren and shoved one toward him. "You looked like you were having an existential crisis or something. Don't tell me you're still high on drawing ten Vinas in a row?"

Yoren didn't respond, still staring at the sky.

Zhang Yuan took a bite of his sausage and kept talking. "I mean, I get it. The King of Advance is strong as hell. You lucked out. But damn, what kind of twisted RNG gives you ten of her in one pull? The way I see it, you've got a whole damn Glasgow Gang in your account now."


"The Glasgow Gang," Yoren murmured, barely audible.

Zhang Yuan kept going. "Yeah, man. Miss Wang's a beast. Her stats are ridiculous. Too bad she's a gang leader. Can you imagine having a wife like that? You'd be at home cooking dinner while she's out there cracking skulls with her hammer."

Yoren finally spoke, his voice distant. "She knows how to cook."

"Huh?" Zhang Yuan blinked, caught off guard. "Where the hell is that written? Did I not unlock enough logs?"

Yoren smiled faintly. "She likes lollipops. And wine. And no matter how dangerous the situation, she never leaves her comrades behind."

Zhang Yuan gave him a wary look. "Dude. That's some deep fanfiction territory you're getting into."

But Yoren wasn't listening. He saw flashes—scenes in his mind, more vivid than any dream. Vina tying her apron, nudging him to help. Vina setting a steaming bowl of noodles in front of him with a rare, genuine smile. Vina, raising her glass, saying, Come to Victoria someday. I'll cook for you.

His fingers clenched against the cold rooftop tiles.

It wasn't just Vina. He could see Winter, standing defiant, bearing the weight of responsibility far beyond her years. Truth, staring blankly at the chaos she'd caused with her endless deductions. Indra, grinning like a predator, slamming her fist into her palm, always eager for a fight.

He could feel it—the weight of the hammer slamming into his skull, the force of Indra's kick sending him flying into a sofa.

His eyes widened.

"Holy shit," he whispered.

---

Zhang Yuan led him down to the infirmary, still laughing. "Dude, you're really out of it today. That thunderstorm last night must've messed with your head."

The school nurse frowned as she examined him. "There's a sizable swelling on the back of your head," she noted, pressing gently. "It looks like you were hit with something blunt—maybe a metal object."

Yoren stiffened. A hammer. Her hammer.

The nurse continued, oblivious to his growing dread. "And your waist... hmm. This bruise suggests you were struck hard, maybe a kick or—"

"A boot," Yoren said, breathless. "It was a boot."

The nurse looked at him, puzzled. "You remember how this happened?"

Zhang Yuan snorted. "I'm telling you, he probably got up in the middle of the night to practice hula hooping, slipped, and knocked himself out."

Yoren wasn't listening. His heart was pounding. The dream—no, it wasn't a dream. The pain, the memories, the faces—they were all real.

He gripped the edge of the chair so tightly his knuckles turned white from the pressure.

He had been there.

He had lived in Terra.

And now… he was back.

He staggered to his feet, ignoring the nurse's protests, ignoring Zhang Yuan's confused questions.

What the hell happened? Why was he here? Had he been sent back? Was the Glasgow Gang still out there, waiting for him? Was Vina still fighting? Was Winter still leading?

He had to go back.

He had to return to Terra.

"They can all try to stop me...but...I know what was real and...I need to see it again...I can't...I need it..."

But how...could he do it...?

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 12

At that moment, Yoren felt everything click into place. The pieces of the puzzle he hadn't even realized he was assembling suddenly fit together with absolute clarity.

He remembered.

Yesterday, after coming home from school, he had been lying on his bed, lazily playing Arknights on his phone. He had just finished a mission when an unusual prompt appeared on his screen:

"Human, are you willing to change this world with your actions?"

Two choices. "Yes" or "No."

At first, he thought it was some kind of special event or maybe a prank from the developers. Just as he was about to tap "No" out of sheer skepticism, a flash of lightning split the sky outside his window, startling him so much that his hand jerked—and the phone slipped, smacking him right in the face.

Then, everything went black.

Holy hell… is that how I got there? Was that my method of traveling between worlds? Death by phone-to-face impact? How ridiculous could it get?!

But no—there was no mistaking it now. The dull ache in his head, the soreness in his waist… they were proof. Proof that everything he had experienced wasn't just some elaborate fever dream. The Terra world was real. Vina was real. Winter was real. Indra's brutal kick was real.

He clenched his fists as the realization settled deep into his bones.

Next to him, Zhang Yuan raised an eyebrow. "What's with you? You look like you just figured out the meaning of life or something."

"Shut up. Let me think."

Under the baffled gazes of Zhang Yuan and the school nurse, Yoren strode to the infirmary window, gripping the windowsill as if steadying himself against the weight of his thoughts.

Two timelines. Two separate worlds.

When he had first arrived in Checheng, the fruit vendor told him it was 3:40 in the afternoon. But in this world, he had left school at around 5:00 PM. Meaning, the flow of time wasn't exactly synced. The difference didn't seem drastic, but it was enough to confirm they weren't running parallel.

That meant he wasn't just dreaming Terra. He wasn't living a delusion. He was actually existing in both places.

But that also led to another pressing question—

What happened if he died there?

Unlike some VR fantasy, this wasn't a game where he could just log off. If he got himself killed in Terra, he wouldn't respawn. He would disappear. No body. No funeral. Just a missing person report that would eventually be abandoned.

So why go back?

He had the choice to forget. To wipe the slate clean, delete the app, and live a normal, safe life. If he pretended none of it had ever happened, he could graduate college, get a stable job, live out his years in peaceful ignorance.

Wouldn't that be the right choice?

But…

Yesterday, he had drawn ten Kings of Advancement.

Yesterday, he had drawn ten Winters.

Some people say that deep bonds transcend time and space. That even when separated by worlds, an unspoken connection can persist. Like how you suddenly think of someone, and moments later, they text you. Something unseen, something science can't explain, ties people together.

Even across dimensions, across realities, that bond had called out to him. They were calling out to him.

Vina, who told him to come to Victoria one day for a home-cooked meal.

Winter, who was too proud to ask for help but always bore the weight of others' suffering.

And Amiya… the girl who had yet to appear, the girl whose dream was to save everyone, even if it meant burning herself away to achieve it.

Yoren exhaled sharply.

He knew his answer.

Of course he would go back.

Because that's just the kind of fool he was.

A grin crept onto his face, slow and reckless, before it erupted into laughter—full, unrestrained, almost delirious.

Zhang Yuan flinched. "Okay, I take it back. You are crazy."

Yoren wiped a tear from his eye and clapped Zhang Yuan on the shoulder. "I'm not crazy. I'm just excited."

"For what? Getting admitted to a psych ward?"

Yoren smirked. "Nah. I'm just looking forward to seeing an old friend."

Zhang Yuan gave him a sideways glance. "Bro, are you even listening to yourself?"

"Hey, I have a question for you."

Zhang Yuan sighed. "What now?"

"If you met your favorite operator in real life, what's the first thing you'd do?"

Zhang Yuan thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I dunno. Take her to a supermarket? Buy her some good food? Gotta make sure she eats well, right?"

Yoren nodded, a satisfied glint in his eyes. "Yeah. That's a good idea."

He stretched, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the weight of his revelation.

"Zhang Yuan, lend me a hundred bucks."

"What? Why?"

Yoren grinned. "I'm taking someone out for dinner soon."

---

Yoren plopped down, hands planted on the floor in surrender.

"Vina, I was wrong."

Vina stood up from the sofa, balancing on one bare foot, the other still missing its slipper. She looked down at him with exaggerated disappointment.

"First day in the gang, and you're already slacking off? Tsk, tsk, Yoren. This is really disappointing."

"Hey, sorry, sorry," he muttered, digging into his pocket. His fingers fumbled around before pulling out a red plum candy. He awkwardly unwrapped it, then paused.

"Sister, smoking is wrong."

He stuffed the candy back and pulled out something else—a green-wrapped Alps lollipop.

"Big sister eats candy. Apple-flavored. A token of friendship."

Vina narrowed her eyes at him, but she plucked the candy from his fingers.

"Tch. Fine. I won't pursue it this time. But don't make it a habit."

"Oh my, my," Yoren teased, bowing dramatically. "Your kindness knows no bounds."

"Yeah, yeah. Now go fetch my slipper."

"Yes, boss."

Yoren retrieved the slipper, crouching to help her slide it back onto her foot. He knew no matter how many times she had come to wake him up, he wouldn't have heard her—because there had been no one in the room.

"By the way, why didn't you just come in if I didn't answer?" he asked.

"You locked the door."

"Like that's ever stopped you before."

Vina folded her arms, shifting her weight onto one hip. "Tsk. How was I supposed to know if you sleep naked? I'd rather not be traumatized."

At that moment, Kate pushed through the makeshift wooden planks hastily nailed over the shattered front door. Since Winter had blown the original one off its hinges, the gang had done a slapdash job patching it up.

Yoren watched, amused, as Kate bent backward like a circus acrobat, squeezing through the narrow opening. He whistled.

"Damn, didn't know you were that flexible. You hiding something from us, big guy?"

Kate shot him a look before turning to Vina.

"Found the cars. Two of them. They're parked outside."

"Good," Vina nodded, all business now.

Yoren scooted closer. "So what's the plan?"

Vina pulled out a map, spreading it across the coffee table. Her finger landed on a marked point. "Victoria confirmed the coordinates at noon. The disaster site is here."

Yoren leaned in, studying the map. "That's... not wilderness? What are those black marks?"

Vina nodded. "That used to be Mandel City, a big Ursus settlement. Twenty-seven years ago, a natural disaster wiped it off the map. They didn't have mobile city tech back then, so the whole place turned to ruins."

Yoren let out a low whistle. "And now, twenty-seven years later, the place gets wrecked again? Bad luck. Real bad luck."

"No one lives there anymore," Vina continued. "The whole region is abandoned, so no one noticed the natural disaster when it hit. That's why we're getting in before anyone else."

"Makes sense." Yoren sat back, processing the information. He could see it now—an untouched land, raw Originium deposits waiting to be taken. But also, danger. "So, when are we heading out?"

"Tonight. We'll meet up with the mercenaries Indra contacted tomorrow. We leave in a few hours."

Midnight.

Under the cloak of darkness, the Glasgow Gang slipped out of Chernobog.

Two large jeeps carried them through the snowy roads, the engines humming low against the silence of the night. Eleven people, including the two infected members, were packed into the convoy.

Yoren sat in the first car with Vina and Indra. The space was comfortable, and Kate took turns driving with another gang member.

The journey would take two days. Two days through the cold, through uncertainty, through the danger that loomed beyond the headlights.

Kate glanced back from the passenger seat. "The road ahead is smooth. If you wanna sleep, now's the time. I'll wake you if anything happens."

Vina didn't reply, but her posture remained rigid, her attention fixed ahead. Yoren noticed she was still wearing that same thin black coat, her shorts leaving her legs bare against the Ursus cold.

"Aren't you freezing?" he asked.

"I'm used to it," she muttered. "Victoria's not much warmer, anyway."

"Still, cold is cold."

"What do you want me to do? Knit a sweater on the spot?"

Yoren grinned. "Nah, I got something better."

He turned and rummaged through a plastic bag before pulling out a glass bottle.

Vina took it, squinting at the label. "What's this? Water?"

"That, my dear Miss Vina, is Niulanshan Erguotou."

"...Is it alcohol?"

"Oh, it's more than alcohol. It's warmth in a bottle. A gift from my homeland. Try it."

Twenty minutes later.

Vina had one arm slung around Yoren's neck, her cheeks flushed crimson.

"Yorennn... you don't understand..." she slurred, gesturing wildly with her free hand. "Back in Londinium, I—hic—I was ruthless! I held up my hammer and went from the east square to the west! From west to north! BAM! One hit, one down! I was—hic—the real terror of the underground!"

Yoren struggled to keep a straight face as she practically hung off him. "That so?"

"Damn right!" She hiccupped. "And you, you, my little underling, should—should—respect your boss!"

Indra, watching from across the seat, sighed.

"You and your bright ideas, Yoren."

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 13

Indra's question caught Yoren off guard.

"What is gunpowder?"

Yoren opened his mouth, then shut it. How could he even begin to explain? Gunpowder wasn't just one thing—it was a compound, a reaction, a cornerstone of an entire branch of warfare. The structure of modern bullets alone involved nitrocellulose, carefully designed aerodynamics, metallurgy, and precision chemistry.

But how could he explain all that to someone who had never even heard of it?

After a moment of thinking, he tried a simpler approach. "You know fireworks? The kind that go off in the sky with a bang and make sparks?"

"Why would you waste resources just to make something explode for fun?" Indra frowned.

Yoren sighed. "Because it looks cool. And it makes people happy."

A beat of silence. Then Vina furrowed her brows, as if trying to piece something together. "Are you talking about sub-origin stone powder?"

"Sub-origin stone powder?" Yoren echoed. "What's that?"

Vina hesitated, then turned to Kate. "I'm not good at explaining. You do it."

Kate nodded. "Sub-origin stone powder is what's left when an Originium stone is depleted. It's highly flammable, ignites easily, and burns at an extremely high temperature. While it's not as valuable as processed Originium, it's still rare and dangerous to handle."

Yoren's brain clicked into place.

This world really was different.

He had always felt like something was slightly off. Not just the landscape, not just the existence of Originium, but something deeper—something fundamental about how this world functioned.

And now he understood.

Technology wasn't following a normal progression here. It was warped, distorted—like a tree that had been struck by lightning and grew sideways instead of up.

Back home, human civilization had developed gradually, step by step. First, coal had led to steam engines. Then oil and electricity had sparked the industrial revolution, leading to internal combustion engines, steel production, and global transportation. Eventually, atomic energy and microelectronics paved the way for modern computing, biotechnology, and space travel. It was a slow, methodical climb up the technological ladder.

But here? Here, everything had been different.

For thousands of years, civilization had crawled forward at a snail's pace, hindered by a lack of natural resources and constant natural disasters. Then Originium was discovered, and everything changed overnight.

It was a shortcut. A cheat code. A single resource that had rewritten the rules of technological progress.

With Originium, they didn't need coal or oil. They skipped straight to mobile city-states, advanced industrial production, and high-energy weaponry. The existence of Originium had propelled them into an era of advanced technology without ever passing through the normal stages of development.

And that had consequences.

Unlike his own world, where military technology had developed alongside industry, here, it had stagnated. Why invent tanks when a single operator could wipe out a battlefield? Why develop missiles when Originium-powered spells were just as destructive and didn't require massive production lines? Firearms existed, but only in limited numbers, mostly among the Sakota tribe, and even then, their bullets were mixed with Originium to enhance their power.

It wasn't just that guns were rare—it was that they weren't necessary.

The people of this world were different. Stronger. Faster. More durable. He had seen it himself—Winter tearing apart steel with her bare hands, an infected man surviving a multi-ton steel beam crushing him, and Vina smashing through a metal door like it was made of paper.

In a world where superhuman feats were commonplace, guns simply weren't as valuable as they would have been back home.

Yoren turned back to Kate. "Alright, I get it. Guns are expensive, bullets are even worse, and warlocks can do just as much damage, if not more. But...why not just make simple bullets? No Originium, just metal and gunpowder."

The entire group fell silent.

Indra looked at him like he had just suggested fighting a battle with sticks and stones. "Metal? You mean, just a little hunk of iron? How's that supposed to hurt anyone? And what the hell is gunpowder?"

Yoren felt his eye twitch. "You seriously don't know? You've never had—?" He stopped himself. Of course they hadn't.

His world had taken one path. This world had taken another.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how perfectly this all fit together.

This world wasn't about industrial warfare. It was about direct combat. One-on-one duels. Warlords and knights. It wasn't about mass-produced weapons—it was about individual power.

And it made sense.

If nuclear weapons had never been invented in his world, history would have played out differently. Wars would still be fought like they were in ancient times—between champions, between warriors, between those strong enough to stand on the battlefield.

This was that kind of world.

A world where the strong ruled, and where technology bowed to raw power.

He exhaled slowly, a grin creeping onto his face.

"Alright," he said, stretching his arms. "I get it now. No guns, no cannons. No hiding behind artillery or missiles. You want to win? You fight with your own strength."

He cracked his knuckles. "Fine by me. Let's wrestle."

---

The sun climbed higher in the sky, its rays glinting off the snow-covered plains of Ursus, casting a deceptive warmth over the frozen wasteland. The Glasgow Gang's jeeps rumbled steadily along the desolate highway, a caravan of shadows moving through the heart of no man's land.

Yoren sat in the back of the lead vehicle, staring blankly at the passing scenery. The silence in the car was thick, interrupted only by the occasional rattle of loose supplies. The date was April 12, 1093 in the Terra calendar. If everything went smoothly, they would arrive at the ruins of Mandel City by the 15th. If everything went smoothly—he scoffed at the thought. When did anything ever go smoothly in a place like Ursus?

His fingers tapped absently against his knee. His mind, however, was anything but idle. He knew the nature of what lay ahead.

Mandel City wasn't just a ruined relic swallowed by time—it was now a treasure trove of raw Originium, an unclaimed bounty ripe for the taking. The kind of fortune that could set a person up for life—or be the reason that life was cut violently short.

Who else knew? How many forces had already set their sights on Mandel? They weren't the only ones who could piece together intelligence, and Yoren knew that once word spread, it would be a bloodbath. This wasn't about finding treasure. This was about surviving long enough to take it.

He turned his gaze toward Vina, seated beside Indra. She had been quiet for the last hour, her fingers drumming against the handle of the Contract Victory Hammer resting between her knees. Her golden hair fell slightly over her eyes, but the sharp glint of focus was still visible beneath.

She wasn't just thinking—she was preparing.

Yoren had seen this side of her before. When it came to her people, Vina was steadfast, unshakable. She would never abandon them, no matter the risk. But to her enemies? To those who stood between her and the survival of her gang?

She would show no mercy.

"We might not be the first ones there," he muttered, breaking the silence.

"We will be," Indra replied without looking up. "No one moves faster than us."

Yoren exhaled, unconvinced. "You really think Ursus doesn't already have their sights set on this? We're in their backyard."

"Ursus is slow," Vina finally spoke, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. "Too much red tape, too many power struggles. By the time they mobilize, we'll already have what we need."

"Then who are you worried about?"

"The ones we don't see coming."

Her words hung heavy in the car. Yoren felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold outside.

---

By mid-afternoon, they had passed the last sign of civilization. The road had turned rough, the landscape barren.

Then, in the distance, Yoren spotted it.

A large armored vehicle parked on the side of the road, flanked by seven or eight heavily armed figures. The way they stood, the confidence in their stance, told him they weren't just some wandering mercs. These were professionals.

"Contact up ahead," Yoren warned.

Indra barely glanced up. "Relax. Those are our hired guns."

The jeeps rolled to a stop. Vina was the first to step out, her posture relaxed but her gaze sharp. Yoren followed, keeping his distance as a large man with a full beard and tactical goggles strode forward.

The mercenary captain extended his hand. "Miss Vina, I presume?"

She shook it, her grip firm. "That's me. You're the ones Indra reached out to?"

"That's right. Name's Ace. My team is called Death's Hand. We don't do sloppy work, and we don't leave men behind. If we take a job, we see it through."

Yoren studied him closely. This guy wasn't the type to just sell his skills to the highest bidder. There was something different about him—something solid, dependable.

Vina didn't hesitate. "Good. Then let's move. We'll discuss the details on the road."

Ace nodded, signaling to his men. "You heard the lady. Mount up."

As they loaded back into their vehicles, Yoren found himself next to the mercenary captain in the back of the jeep. The man sat with an easy confidence, one that only came from experience.

"Death's Hand, huh?" Yoren mused. "Never heard of you."

Ace chuckled. "That's by design. We don't advertise."

Yoren smirked. "So what's your code name?"

The mercenary gave him a thumbs-up, a grin breaking across his rugged face.

"Call me Ace."

Yoren leaned back, watching the road stretch out ahead.

The hunt for Mandel City had begun.

And something told him...

This was only the beginning.

 

[Raphiel]

If he learns engineering, atomic structures, and chemical compound formulas and either learns the process himself or finds someone with a corresponding origin art, they can revolutionize the world.

Even with the possibility of nations going to war, it's not like that's worse than what they have now.

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 14

The sun rose higher, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered plains of Ursus. The two jeeps rumbled along the desolate highway, their passengers silent, lost in thought. The cold bit at their skin, but Yoren barely felt it. His mind was elsewhere.

"My code name is ACE."

That voice. That name. The world around Yoren seemed to freeze.

A hero is immortal; even if he is torn to pieces, he never retreats a single step.

Yoren's breath caught in his throat. His thoughts spun, pulled back to a time he hadn't yet lived—but one he remembered all too well.

---

Chernobog, 1096 Terra Calendar.

The sky burned red, meteors crashing down like divine punishment. The screams of the dying, the crackling of fire, the twisted remains of a once-great city—all of it painted a picture of pure destruction.

The Reunion Movement had finally shown its full strength. The oppressed, the abandoned, the vengeful—they had risen to claim their justice in fire and blood. And at their head, clad in silver hair and cold fury, stood Tallulah.

Rhodes Island's last hope for escape was dwindling. The remaining operators, backs against the wall, knew they couldn't hold out much longer.

"Dobermann, take Amiya and the others. Get them out of here!" Lin Guang shouted, planting her feet in defiance as the monstrous flames roared toward them.

Amiya clenched her fists. "No, I won't abandon you!"

"You have to go!" Lin Guang bellowed. "That woman—she'll kill us all!"

A shadow moved past them. Solid. Unwavering.

ACE.

His shield hit the ground with a heavy thud as he stepped forward. "No. We'll hold the line. You get out."

Dobermann's expression darkened. "ACE, you—"

"Amiya." His voice was calm. Steady. "You carry the hopes of Rhodes Island. You must live."

Talulah raised a single hand. Fire gathered in her palm, glowing, searing, suffocating.

Amiya gasped as her body shuddered. The Originium rings on her fingers cracked. But still, she held her ground, the black barrier flickering under the sheer force of Talulah's attack.

Then, a warm hand rested on her shoulder.

"It's okay," ACE said, stepping in front of her. "We've got this."

And then he charged.

The last thing Amiya saw before retreating was his broad back, standing firm against the flames.

---

Yoren's hands trembled.

That moment had been burned into his heart, a chapter in history so tragic it had made countless players clench their fists in frustration. ACE, the unyielding wall, the iron-blooded protector—sacrificed, forgotten by time.

But now, sitting in front of him, flesh and blood, was that same man. Not yet a legend. Not yet a martyr.

Vina's voice cut through his thoughts. "Yoren? What's wrong?"

He blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Nothing," he lied, his voice hoarse. "Just... remembering something."

Vina narrowed her eyes. "Something bad?"

Yoren exhaled. "Maybe. But this time, I can change things."

Because history wasn't written yet. Because this time, ACE wouldn't have to stand alone.

Yoren clenched his fists, then wiped his damp eyes before turning back to the man who once stood against fire and fate. He reached out his hand, a fierce determination burning in his chest.

"My name is Yoren. It's an honor to meet you, ACE."

---

A convoy consisting of two jeeps and an armored vehicle rumbled along the frostbitten road leading to the ruins of Mandel City. By evening, they would reach their destination. The further north they traveled, the harsher the cold became, leaving a thin layer of ice creeping along the edges of the windows.

Yet, inside the car, the atmosphere was anything but cold.

Vina shot an annoyed glance at Yoren.

Ever since he'd met ACE, he'd been buzzing with excitement like a kid who'd just found out superheroes were real. He wouldn't stop talking, touching things, laughing—it was enough to make her wonder if he had a thing for mercenary

After finally settling down for a few minutes, Yoren rummaged through the back of the car again. This time, he pulled out a small yellow box, popped it open, and took out a cigarette.

"ACE, try this. Red Plums, specialty from my hometown."

ACE smiled and shook his head. "Thanks, but the car's enclosed. Wouldn't want to bother anyone."

"No worries, I'll crack the window a little for you."

Just as he reached to lower the glass, Vina snapped.

"Yoren, can you shut up for five minutes?"

"Huh? What did I do?"

"You're acting like a starstruck fan. You're gonna make ACE regret ever getting in this car."

ACE chuckled. "Nah, I don't mind. He's got good energy. And I'm pretty tough—I can handle a little chatter."


Yoren sighed dramatically and leaned back. Maybe he was being a little much, but damn it, this was ACE. The man who, in another timeline, would sacrifice everything for his comrades.

Knowing what fate had in store for him, how could Yoren not want to make the most of their time together?

Still, Vina had a point. He needed to relax.

After a moment, he poked ACE's arm again. "You drink?"

"When there's no mission, yeah. A good drink with the right company—it's one of life's simple pleasures."

Yoren grinned. "Then after this job's done, I'll get you a bottle of Wuliangye. You'll love it."

ACE raised an eyebrow, clearly unfamiliar with the name. "Sounds strong."

"Oh, it is. But trust me, it's the kind of drink that makes you feel like you can take on the whole world."

ACE laughed, a deep, hearty sound. "I'll hold you to that."

They bumped fists in the air, sealing the deal. But Yoren had no idea that what lay ahead in Mandel City would change everything.

---

It was now the Afternoon.

After a quick, cold meal in the car, the group pressed on. Every second mattered. Arriving first could be the difference between securing the Originium or leaving empty-handed—or worse, not leaving at all.

Vina, Indra, ACE, and a few others poured over the old maps they'd acquired through Victoria's underground network. Though outdated by nearly thirty years, they were better than nothing.

Yoren, meanwhile, sat by the window, bored out of his mind. He reached into his pack, pulled out a can of water, and took a sip. Then, feeling generous, he grabbed another and tossed it to Kate.

"Better for everyone to share the wealth, right?" he said with a grin.

Kate caught it, giving a small nod of appreciation before popping it open.

Just as Yoren took another sip—

CRACK!

The car lurched violently.

Milk splattered across his face as the entire vehicle jolted sideways, the sudden impact nearly flipping it over. The driver slammed on the brakes, tires screeching against the icy road. The armored vehicle behind them barely avoided a collision.

For a moment, there was silence, save for the ticking of the cooling engine and Yoren's muttered curse.

Kate wiped his mouth. "What the hell was that?"

Vina grabbed her hammer. "Let's find out."

---

Everyone grabbed their weapons and stepped out, eyes scanning the empty road.

Snow blanketed everything, making it difficult to spot anything unusual. But following the tire tracks, they soon found the culprit: a strange, rounded object sticking out of the ground where their jeep had skidded.

"Looks like a rock," Indra muttered. "Who the hell leaves a rock in the middle of the road?"

Vina scowled. "Kate, smash it. I want us moving in two minutes."

Kate lifted her battle axe and brought it down with full force.

CLANG.

The vibration rattled through her arms, nearly making her drop the weapon.

"Shit! That thing's solid as hell!"

Vina's face darkened. She stepped forward, snatched the hammer from Yoren, and cracked her knuckles.

"Step aside. I'll show you how it's done."

Yoren whistled. "Go get 'em, boss."

Vina leaped into the air, hammer arcing behind her like an executioner's blade. With a roar, she brought it crashing down.

BOOM!

Snow exploded outward. A shockwave rippled through the ground.

And yet…

The round object remained completely unscathed.

Vina slowly turned to Yoren and handed him the hammer.

"Take it."

"What?"

"My hand's numb."

Yoren fought back a laugh as she shook her fingers in pain.

Before anyone could figure out what the hell they were dealing with, the object trembled.

Then, to everyone's shock, it lifted.

Like a lid being pushed open from beneath.

A small figure emerged, rubbing her eyes.

"Mmm… is it morning already? Who was knocking so loud?"

Everyone froze, weapons halfway raised.

The girl blinked sleepily, then gasped at the sight of a dozen armed people staring at her in complete disbelief.

"Ah! Strangers! Wait! I haven't even washed my face yet! Just wait a second!"

Before anyone could react, she yelped and dove back inside, slamming the lid shut behind her.

Silence.

Yoren stared at the now-closed "rock"—no, pod—and felt his jaw go slack.

He recognized that girl.

"No freaking way..."

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 15

In the snow and ice, a girl crawled out from the "pot lid" and quickly retreated back inside.

Everyone watching had the same strange expression—not fear, but a sense of something being off.

Yoren remained the calmest among them. Beside him, Kate poked his arm and whispered, "Yoren, what kind of creature is this?"

Yoren blinked, momentarily taken aback. Kate, a native of Terra, was asking him about local creatures? Just yesterday, he had been spouting off about Originium guns and sub-Originium powder like he had a doctorate, and now she was looking to him for answers.

But this time, she had asked the right person.

Yoren smirked, rubbing his chin. "Turtle."

Kate gave him a look. "Yoren, stop messing around and tell me what it is."

"I am telling you. It's a turtle."

Vina, standing nearby, had no patience for the back-and-forth. She strode up to the "turtle shell" with a hammer and kicked it.

"Hey, you! Why are you ambushing our convoy? Speak up!"

A voice piped up from inside. "Who's ambushing? I was sleeping!"

"Sleeping? In the middle of the road? Who's going to believe that? Who sent you?"

Silence.

Vina frowned and started kicking the shell harder. "Stop pretending to be dead and come out, you sneaky little thing!"

When there was still no response, her frustration boiled over. She raised her sledgehammer. "Fine! If you won't talk, I'll just have to—"

Bang! Bang! Bang! The hammer came down again and again, making a relentless rhythm against the shell. Yoren, watching her determination, found himself unconsciously counting the strikes.

But no matter how many times Vina struck, the girl inside didn't react.

Yoren sighed and stepped forward. "Vina, stop. You're just scaring her."

"No! She dared to ignore me. I won't let her off easy!"

This was the most frustrating kind of opponent—the kind that simply refused to engage. No matter how much force you used, they just hunkered down and waited for the storm to pass.

Yoren placed a hand on Vina's shoulder. "Alright, alright."

"Don't touch me."

"Fine. Just take a break. I've got an idea."

Vina hesitated but eventually stepped back. "You better get her out of there."

"Yeah, yeah."

Yoren crouched by the shell and knocked gently. "Hey, you in there?"

Silence.

"I know you can hear me. Look, just come out and apologize, and we'll move on. No one's going to hurt you."

Still nothing.

"Really, there's no point wasting time like this. If you were just napping and got caught up in all this, we can even give you a ride. Just come out."

Vina, arms crossed, muttered, "She's not budging. Move aside, I'm smashing it open."

Yoren grimaced. Time for his last trick. He leaned in close, cupping his hands around his mouth so only the girl inside could hear.

"If you don't come out... I'm going to pee on this."

BANG! The lid flew open instantly.

A little girl, dressed in a dark green baseball jacket with a thick brown ponytail, shot out like a startled rabbit. Her face was flushed red with outrage as she glared at Yoren.

"You disgusting—!"

Before he could react, she yanked a metal baseball bat from inside her shell and whack!—

"Ouch!" Yoren yelped, hopping on one foot as he clutched the other where she had struck.

The girl brandished the bat like a weapon, her cheeks puffed with fury. "You pervert! You rogue! You absolute bastard!"

The group stared, dumbfounded by her sudden explosion of rage. Vina, puzzled, leaned in to Yoren. "What the hell did you say to her?"

Yoren coughed, still hopping. "Uh… just a little joke."

But now, there was no doubt in his mind. He knew exactly who this girl was.

Snowsant.

Three years from now, she would be known as Rhodes Island's strongest shield. The one who could block an army's advance singlehandedly. The unbreakable fortress.

Right now, though, she was a furious little girl, gripping her bat with both hands. "Why are you bullying me? I didn't do anything wrong! This is public space—why can't I sleep here?!"

Yoren resisted the urge to sigh. Technically, she wasn't wrong. If someone chose to sleep in the middle of the road, it was their responsibility if something happened. Still, this wasn't exactly normal behavior.

Vina rubbed the back of her head, momentarily thrown off by Snowsant's words. "Wait, you really weren't sent by someone?"

Snowsant pouted. "I don't know any organizations! I'm just on my own."

"Uh… okay." Vina had no argument for that. Just because they outnumbered her didn't mean they could demand an apology.

Yoren took a step closer to Vina and whispered, "I actually know her. She's not with any group."

Vina squinted at him. "Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just wait."

He slowly approached Snowsant, hands raised in a peace offering.

"Don't come any closer!" she warned, gripping her bat tighter. "I'm really scary, you know!"

Ignoring her warning, Yoren suddenly grabbed her wrist.

For a brief second, his eyes flickered down to her skin.

There it is.

Small, granular black crystals, barely visible on the inside of her arm.

Snowsant yelped and instinctively swung her bat.

WHACK!

It landed squarely on Yoren's face.

I really did not think that one through.

---

Five minutes later, Yoren sat on a rock with toilet paper stuffed up his nostrils to stop the bleeding.

Snowsant stood next to him, fidgeting. "I, um… I didn't mean to hit you that hard. You scared me."

To be honest, the hit had hurt, but Yoren could take it. For all her strength when inside her "turtle shell," Snowsant's actual attack power was laughably weak.

He pulled the tissue out and gave her a lopsided smile. "It's okay. That was self-defense. If a bad guy ever grabs you, you should do the same thing. Good job, Snowsant."

Her eyes widened in shock. "Wait—how do you know my name?!"

Yoren met her gaze. "We met a year ago, don't you remember?"

Snowsant looked lost. It wasn't the kind of confusion where someone tries to recall a distant memory—it was the confusion of someone who had no memory at all.

"A year ago? That's… too far back for me."

Yoren exhaled slowly. He had expected as much.

Even three years before the Kjerag incident, Snowsant was already infected.

And she was already suffering from severe amnesia.

---

Yoren was familiar with every operator in Rhodes Island, and Snowsant was no exception.

[Eh? Where is this place? Who am I?]

That was the first thing Snowsant said when she woke up. One day, while Rhodes Island's mobile base was resupplying in a small Columbia city, the operators found her napping on the deck, basking in the sun. When they roused her, she had no recollection of how she got there or what she had been doing. Every memory from before her arrival at Rhodes Island had vanished.

Yoren glanced at Snowsant, who sat beside him looking uneasy. He had a feeling that her sudden appearance in Rhodes Island after three years wasn't a coincidence. This was the place she had been searching for. Yet, when she finally arrived, she had forgotten why she had been looking for it in the first place.

Yoren didn't understand her reasons, but he was certain of one thing: joining Rhodes Island would only benefit her. After all, she was an Infected.

He reached out and gently ruffled her hair.

"Snowsant, why are you hiking alone through the frozen wastes of Ursus?"

"I… I don't have money. I always travel alone."

"Where are you headed?"

"I want to go to Kjerag. Someone told me that if I keep going north, I'll see the Holy Mountain of Karan."

Yoren sighed. Who had given her such awful directions? Heading straight north was practically a death sentence in this frozen wilderness.

"Kjerag is still far from here, and you're not even going the right way. What's waiting for you there?"

"I… I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

"I… forgot."

Yoren frowned as he took in her appearance. She wore only thin clothes, and her ears were already red from the cold. He could guess how she had been surviving—her only means of warmth was that peculiar "turtle shell" of hers. Every few steps, she would retreat into it to conserve body heat.

Yoren stood and walked over to Vina.

"Vina, we're heading north anyway. Why don't we give her a ride to Mandel City? She can continue on her own from there."

Vina hesitated. Yoren quickly pressed his advantage.

"Come on, you were hammering her 'turtle shell' a minute ago, and she didn't even complain. She's a tough kid. Just let her ride with us."

Vina recalled how she had been pounding away at the shell like a miner breaking rock. Her cheeks reddened slightly.

"…Fine. Do what you want. There's space in the truck anyway."

Yoren turned back to Snowsant and held out his hand.

"You don't have to keep walking. We can take you part of the way."

"But…"

"No pressure. You can get off anytime. It's warm in the truck, and there's food."

At the mention of food, her eyes lit up, but just as quickly, they dimmed again.

"But… I'm an Infected."

In Terra, the Infected rarely admitted their status. They were outcasts, shunned by society.

Yoren only smiled. "It's fine. You're just sick. And if you're sick, you should rest in the truck, right?"

Snowsant hesitated, then nodded. Maybe this was the first time someone had accepted her after learning she was Infected.

She turned, retrieved her "turtle shell" from where she'd left it, and strapped it to her back.

Vina frowned, watching her.

"Wait a second, What is that? It's tougher than any shield I've ever seen."

Snowsant gave it a shake.

"This? It's my bag."

"A bag? Where'd you get it?"

"…I forgot. I've had it for a really long time."

Yoren knew Snowsant's backpack wasn't ordinary. Even Kal'tsit and the researchers at Rhodes Island couldn't understand its composition. It was supposedly made of an ultra-hard metal stitched together with some near-indestructible technique. More than that, Snowsant could use it to activate a powerful defensive ability.

With that backpack alone, she could wander anywhere, sleep wherever she pleased, and retreat into it at the first sign of danger. For years, she had drifted through the world like a lost traveler, yet she had somehow survived.

Yoren stepped closer and patted her shoulder.

"Turtle—"

"My name isn't Turtle… Well, actually, that's not a bad name. I'll allow it."

It seemed she didn't mind the nickname.

Yoren recalled something he'd read before. "If I'm not mistaken, you can activate a defensive ability with that backpack, right?"

Snowsant nodded. "Yep."

Yoren took a few steps back. "Show Vina."

"Okay."

Snowsant grabbed the straps of her backpack and closed her eyes. A soft blue glow emanated from the bag, expanding outward to form a translucent, circular barrier around her.

Inside the shield, she opened her eyes.

"There. This is my Absolute Domain. No one outside can hurt me, but I can't attack anyone either."

Yoren smirked at Vina. "Miss Wang, go ahead and try. Let's see what you've got."

Vina scoffed, gripping her hammer. "Don't think I couldn't break it earlier—I was just holding back so I wouldn't hurt the kid."

"Oh?" Yoren exaggerated his reaction just enough to needle her pride.

Vina's eye twitched. "You don't believe me? Fine. Hey, kid, just so you know—I won't be responsible if I break through."

Snowsant was unfazed. "You won't."

That did it. Vina roared and charged, hammer swinging.

---

Five minutes later.

Vina stood with her hammer planted in the ground, panting. "Damn… you're tough."

Inside the barrier, Snowsant looked smug. "I have full confidence in my defense. Not just you—no one here could break it, even if you all attacked at once."

That set everyone off. Even the Death Squad operators weren't ones to back down from a challenge.

"Little girl, you said it yourself. Don't start crying later."

"I won't. Come at me."

Snowsant pouted playfully inside her barrier, waiting for the "onslaught."

A roar went up from the crowd as they charged, weapons raised. Battle axes, swords, maces, every weapon imaginable rained down on the barrier from all directions.

Even the usually reserved ACE kicked it twice for good measure.

CLANG! CRASH! THUD!

---

Ten minutes later.

Snowsant stood inside her barrier, head tilted, eyes half-closed. If not for the racket, she might've fallen asleep.

Around her, operators were sprawled out, clutching their sore arms. Some swords had bent from the impact.

The exhausted fighters exchanged looks and heaved deep breaths, their voices laced with reluctant admiration.

"Turtle… you're tough."

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 16

No matter what tricks everyone used, they were powerless against Snowsant's Absolute Domain. This outcome was exactly what Yoren expected.

Snowsant's backpack was no ordinary object. The special metals woven into its structure were more complex than even Originium itself. Not even Kal'tsit or Hemer—experts in their fields—could decipher its origins. In fact, even Snowsant herself had no idea where it came from.

After becoming infected, parts of her body began to deteriorate. However, in return, she gained a unique ability: she could channel the power within her backpack through Originium Arts, generating an impenetrable blue barrier—her Absolute Domain.

If Kal'tsit's knowledge wasn't enough to explain this artifact, then surely Hemer, the head of the Originium Project at Rhine Lab—funded by Columbia, the world's largest superpower—would have the answer. But even Hemer had no explanation for its composition.

This led Yoren to a bold hypothesis: Snowsant's backpack wasn't a product of their time at all.

Much like his original world, where Earth had existed for over four billion years while human civilization spanned only a few thousand, Terra's history was equally uncertain. What if, before the great natural disasters, there had been an advanced technological civilization—one now lost to time? And what if this backpack was a relic from that forgotten era?

Unlike firearms, which were mass-produced and later rediscovered by the Lateran people, this backpack seemed far rarer. It wasn't a weapon for war but a unique, high-grade piece of equipment. Its purpose? Defense, and nothing else. Yoren speculated that ancient scholars might have foreseen the coming of Terra's cataclysmic disasters and had developed this artifact as a safeguard against them.

The Pitram people, to whom Snowsant belonged, were exceedingly rare. Beyond her, Yoren had never encountered another. And strangely, despite her nickname "Turtle," there was nothing distinctly turtle-like about her besides the backpack. In fact, she seemed completely human. This realization unsettled him.

The Sakota, or Angel race, were the only known species with access to advanced weaponry like Originium guns. But rumors suggested that these firearms hadn't been invented by the Sakota themselves but unearthed through archaeological digs deep beneath Lateran. If angels were considered messengers of God, then perhaps their access to lost technology was no coincidence.

If Snowsant's backpack was even rarer than Originium weaponry, then its existence pointed to something even more profound—something that had been deliberately hidden from history.

Perhaps Snowsant's amnesia wasn't an accident, but an inherited condition. Maybe the Pitram people were connected to this ancient technology in ways even they didn't understand. What if their memories were systematically erased to prevent them from uncovering the truth? If so, that would explain why the Pitram population had dwindled over the years. Deprived of their past, they lost not only their history but their very purpose.

Snowsant had already dismissed her Absolute Domain, and now the operators surrounded her, curiously poking and prodding her backpack. She simply scratched her head and smiled innocently.

Her smile was pure, like a princess basking in the kindness of the world.

But Yoren knew better. He knew her innocence came at a terrible cost.

She had forgotten everything—her home, her friends, her family, even the reason for her journey. For a girl so young, such loss was cruel beyond words.

She had survived alone in this dangerous world, weak and directionless, clinging only to her mysterious backpack for protection. Fear, betrayal, and hardship must have plagued her at every turn. Yet despite everything, she still smiled, still trusted, still walked forward.

How many times had she been deceived? How often had she curled up in her "turtle shell," waiting for danger to pass? She had likely been tricked, cast aside, and even hurt. Yet those painful memories had faded, swallowed by the curse—or mercy—of her forgotten past.

And still, she smiled.

Was this a curse? Or was it kindness?

The operators chattered excitedly around her.

"You're incredible. I give up!"

"That defense is unreal."

"Hey, ever thought about joining a gang?"

Snowsant only scratched her head and laughed. "Ehehe… I'm not that amazing."

Yoren, standing at a distance, watched her quietly. A thought crept into his mind.

Maybe forgetting wasn't always a bad thing.

Yes, memories held precious moments—but they also carried unbearable pain. Perhaps it was because she had forgotten so much that she could remain so innocent and optimistic, continuing her endless journey without the weight of sorrow.

But now, her journey had changed.

If history had played out as before, Snowsant would have continued wandering until she stumbled upon Rhodes Island three years later. But now, because of Yoren's presence, that future was uncertain. He had altered the course of fate, unknowingly setting off ripples that would change everything.

Had he not existed, Truth wouldn't have escaped the villa that night. Winter wouldn't have leaked information about the Scourge to Vina. The Glasgow Gang wouldn't have crossed paths with them on the road to Mandel City. And without this meeting, Snowsant might never have found Rhodes Island at all.

This was the butterfly effect—a force beyond anyone's control.

Since the moment he arrived in this world, the fates of those around him had begun to shift.

Yoren stepped forward, weaving through the crowd until he reached Snowsant. He gently took her small hand in his.

"Turtle, it's cold outside. Come on, I'll take you to the truck."

Snowsant looked up at him, eyes bright. "Okay."

And in that moment, Yoren understood why he had been brought here. Among the millions of Arknights players, why had he alone been summoned?

The answer was simple.

Because he was the only one who would save those he loved

No matter what it took.

---

The wind and snow paused for only a moment before resuming their relentless descent. The flakes were pure white, as if trying to cleanse the filth of the world.

Snowsant sat quietly in the truck, gazing out at the fleeting scenery with a gentle smile. Perhaps, in the fragments of memory she still retained, this was the first time she had ever ridden in a vehicle.

Yoren rummaged through his seemingly endless shopping bag.

"Turtle, do you want to drink milk first or try some jelly?"

Snowsant blinked curiously. "What's jelly?"

"Jelly is... Never mind, just drink the milk first."

He pulled out a can of Wangzai milk, popped the tab, and handed it to her. "Just drink it straight. Don't worry, it's not poisoned. It's good for you."

His reassurance was unnecessary. Snowsant took the can and gulped it down without hesitation.

Yoren was momentarily speechless.

He had intended to take a sip first to show her it was safe, but this girl was completely defenseless. It was a miracle she had survived this long, wandering alone.

Then, suddenly, Snowsant froze mid-drink.

Yoren waved a hand in front of her face. "Hey, you okay?"

Her lips pursed tightly, and her face quickly turned red.

"Oi, don't scare me—did you choke on the milk?"

For a brief moment, Yoren wondered if she had some kind of allergy. But before he could react further, Snowsant exhaled deeply, then leaned back in her seat with closed eyes, unmoving.

Alarmed, he reached out and patted her cheek. "Turtle? What's wrong? Say something!"

Snowsant opened her eyes slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's so delicious... I fainted."

Yoren stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.

She sat up, still clutching the can with both hands, her expression full of wonder. "Where can I get more of this?"

"Well... unless you have interdimensional shipping, probably nowhere but here."

Snowsant's eyes flickered with hesitation, as if she were grappling with a serious internal debate. Then, after a moment, she spoke hesitantly.

"Um... Uncle—"

"Oi! Don't call me uncle! Do I look that old?!"

He wasn't delusional—he knew he looked mature for his age, but being called "uncle" was unacceptable. More importantly, if he was uncle, what would that make ACE, who was sitting nearby with his massive beard?

"Then… what should I call you?"

Yoren paused. A mischievous idea crossed his mind, and he coughed awkwardly before glancing away.

"I don't really have anything in mind..."

Snowsant tilted her head. "Is it really that hard...?"

Yoren crossed his arms as he sighed. "I'm just not sure alright..."

Snowsant seemed to think about the situation before speaking once more.

Yoren merely glanced at her expression attempting to garner something out of her expression.

Snowsant narrowed her eyes. "Yoren, I can't think of anything."

Coughing into his fist, Yoren simply muttered "Forget it. Just call me Yoren or Brother, whatever works."

Snowsant thought for a moment. "Then...Brother Yoren."

Brother Yoren? Yoren twitched.

"Isn't there a cuter option?" he asked, hopeful.

Snowsant put a finger to her lips. "Hmm… Brother Yoren? Boss Feng? Big Windmill?"

Yoren sighed. "Forget it. Call me whatever you want."

She cradled the milk in both hands, staring down at it with a mix of hesitation and anticipation.

"Um… Brother Yoren, I have a small request. I've been traveling alone for a long time, and I don't even remember where I was going. But after thinking about it… I just want to find a place to stay. I don't have many requirements. I can work, I can help… As long as I can drink this again…"

"Stop right there."

Yoren already knew what she was going to say.

Even if she had forgotten her past, the loneliness she had carried all this time remained, buried deep in her heart.

She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay—by his side.

Of course, the irresistible taste of Wangzai milk might have played a significant role in her decision, but that wasn't the point.

She was still too young to hide her emotions. Yoren could see right through her.

But he couldn't just promise her anything on a whim.

He wasn't about to abandon her in Mandel City and part ways. That was never an option. Yet, if she followed him, that meant becoming part of the Glasgow Gang.

And that was the problem.

No matter how close he was to Vina, the gang wasn't his to control. He couldn't make decisions on a whim. The Glasgow Gang was built through the blood and sweat of its members—it wasn't just his to command.

Could he really say with confidence, "Turtle, you'll follow me from now on"?

That was when the realization hit him.

Compared to this brutal world, he was too weak.

There were too many things he wanted to change, too many people he wanted to protect. If he were strong enough, he wouldn't even need Vina and Winter to go through the tragedies they had endured.

Outside the window, snowflakes continued to drift from the gray sky.

Yoren stared at the unfamiliar landscape, and a bold idea took root in his mind.

If he could, he would create his own force before Rhodes Island even existed—one powerful enough to directly bring Amiya's ideals to life.

Save everyone?

Impossible.

That was nothing more than an unreachable dream. Even Amiya, no matter how pure-hearted, couldn't save everyone. Whether Infected or ordinary people, when faced with conflict, most would prioritize their own survival.

That was human nature.

People would gladly step over the suffering of others if it meant securing their own future.

Every road to power was paved with blood. If he clung to naïve ideals, he would never be able to stand against someone like Tallulah—a woman willing to discard everything in pursuit of her truth.

Yoren wanted to make Amiya's dream a reality. But he didn't want to be an angel who saved everyone, nor did he want to be a demon drenched in blood.

If forced to choose between black and white, he would carry the burdens Amiya could not—including the sins.

The sky darkened. Snowflakes swirled through the air, tinged with something darker, something ominous.

At the northern horizon, a massive black cloud loomed, swallowing the land beneath its suffocating shadow.

Vina, watching the distance, narrowed her eyes.

"That's the black cloud left behind by the natural disaster. Everyone, stay sharp. We're about to reach Mandel City."

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 17

The dark clouds ahead loomed ominously. After two grueling days of driving, the Glasgow Gang finally reached their destination—Mandel City.

It was still afternoon, but the sky had darkened unnaturally. Signs of human habitation began to emerge along the roadside: makeshift houses, scattered remnants of settlements, and abandoned villages that had long succumbed to time and disaster.

Dilapidated structures lined the horizon, their roofs caved in, walls crumbling, and streets eerily silent. From a distance, the remnants of civilization resembled the ghost towns often seen in horror films. Mandel City must have once thrived; the sheer number of ruined villages along the way suggested a past prosperity now lost to history.

Yoren gazed silently out the window, his thoughts heavy. The dim light and ruined landscape painted a picture of despair.

"It takes generations to build a home, yet a single catastrophe can erase it all," he murmured.

Kate, focused on the road, remained expressionless. "There's nothing we can do. Once a natural disaster strikes, the land becomes uninhabitable. Mandel City has already fallen. If its people wanted to survive, they had no choice but to abandon it."

Yoren sighed. "I get it, but seeing it with my own eyes... it's different."

Vina patted his shoulder. "First time entering a place this dangerous, huh? Don't overthink it. Just stay focused. We're almost there."

Yoren nodded. "Yeah."

The road began to incline, flanked by towering, leafless trees. The convoy pressed forward, accelerating as they climbed a long, winding hill.

---

Five minutes later, the terrain leveled off. Kate pulled over to the side of the road, and the other two vehicles followed suit.

Vina was the first to step out. When Yoren finally exited the car, holding Snowsant's hand, the sight before him stole his breath away.

"This is..."

"Mandel City," Kate confirmed.

At the foot of the hill, the ruined metropolis sprawled before them.

Endless streets crisscrossed through the desolation. Buildings of all shapes and sizes stood in eerie silence, some barely clinging to their former structures. A long-dried river split the city into north and south, its bed now filled with rubble and decay.

Even from this distance, Yoren could make out the remnants of schools, parks, hospitals, and commercial centers. High-rise buildings once bustling with life now stood hollow and lifeless. The cold wind swept through the streets, whispering the remnants of a forgotten past.

Mandel City wasn't just big—it was immense.

Kate, sensing his awe, spoke in a solemn tone. "Twenty-seven years ago, this was the largest trade hub in northern Ursus. Being close to Kjerag, Mandel City served as a key transit point for goods from the Holy Mountain of Kalan. The surrounding land was rich in minerals and resources. The economy here surpassed most inland cities, and as the city grew, it attracted merchants from all over."

Yoren absorbed her words. "That's incredible."

"More than that. The foreign population eventually outnumbered the Ursus natives. Over time, Mandel became a melting pot of cultures, even passing laws unique to this city alone."

A special administrative zone of sorts. A border city that carved out its own identity. But all of that had been reduced to nothing.

Vina stood quietly, staring at the ruins with an unreadable expression. Without a word, she pulled a small metal case from the trunk and set it on the ground.

Yoren, curious, stepped closer. "Vina, what's that?"

She opened the case and began distributing arc-shaped metal masks. "These are air shields. They'll protect you from Originium infection. Keep them on at all times. If you must remove them, don't exceed three minutes."

Yoren examined the shield in his hands. It was sturdier than a regular mask, unable to fold, but breathable. When he spoke through it, his voice carried through clearly.

After securing his own, he reached for another and knelt beside Snowsant. "Here, let me put this on you."

Snowsant shook her head. "I don't need it."

Yoren hesitated before remembering—Snowsant was already infected.

Vina finished handing out the masks and reached for another container, pulling out a small bottle. "Everyone, take one. This will inhibit Originium particles from merging with your blood. There are mild side effects, but it's better than contracting mineral disease."

Yoren took a pill, eyeing it warily. "Side effects?"

"Weakness, dizziness, chest tightness due to increased heart strain. But you have to take it. That's an order."

Yoren nodded and swallowed the pill.

The pill had a hint of fruit that came through his senses briefly before it went down.

Vina's expression was grave as she ensured everyone took their dose. She wasn't willing to lose another comrade to mineral disease.

Finally, she pulled a small syringe from the bottom of the case.

"This is a mineralogy inhibitor. I paid a fortune for it in Columbia. It's our last resort if someone gets infected."

She held it up for everyone to see, her voice turning steely. "Our protective measures aren't foolproof. These masks and pills help, but they won't guarantee our safety. You need to understand what I'm about to tell you."

The team fell silent, eyes locked on her.

"If you're infected, you have five minutes before the Originium particles merge with your blood. Inject this before that happens. It's cutting-edge biotech—it will instantly coagulate your blood, forcing your body into dormancy while the drug separates the Originium. The success rate is 80%."

Yoren started to speak, but Vina cut him off. "But—there's a catch. If five minutes pass, the infection becomes irreversible. This won't work anymore. At that point, you'll have to accept the consequences."

The weight of her words sank in.

She exhaled and continued. "One more thing. If a healthy person is injected with this, it'll cause massive damage to their blood cells. So be rational. Be decisive. Make the right call. Do you understand?"

"Understood!" The group responded in unison.

Vina's grip on the syringe tightened. Her gaze swept over them.

"And one last thing. This—" she lifted the syringe higher, "—is the only one we have."

---

Yoren had never seen Vina with such a complicated look on her face before.

It was the look of someone forcing themselves to stay composed, suppressing the anxiety brewing beneath the surface.

Vina stepped forward and handed him a syringe.

"Yoren, I'm entrusting this to you."

Yoren blinked, surprised. "Me? Why?"

"Because you won't be fighting on the frontlines. If things go south in the city, you'll be in a safe place assisting us. It makes sense for you to keep it."

"I… I understand."

Her reasoning was sound. As an ordinary person, Yoren was of little use in a fight. Keeping the syringe with him ensured that someone outside the battle had access to it. Even so, holding something this important made him uneasy.

Vina met his eyes, her tone firm.

"Remember, if any of us show symptoms of infection, don't hesitate. Inject them immediately and get them to safety. Any one of us, Yoren. No exceptions."

She turned away before he could respond, shifting her attention to ACE.

"Brother ACE, I'm sorry, but this syringe is rare. If things go bad, I can only use it for my own people. I need to be clear about that upfront."

ACE nodded, his expression unreadable. "I understand. We Death Squad operatives take responsibility for our own. We won't ask for anything beyond the agreed commission. You have my word."

Yoren carefully pocketed the syringe before glancing at Kate beside him. Lowering his voice, he asked, "Kate, how much is ACE's commission for this job?"

Kate simply held up two fingers.

Yoren frowned. "Just say it. I have no idea what that means."

Kate smirked. "After this mission, we owe them 20% of all the Originium we recover."

Yoren considered that for a moment. He wasn't entirely sure how much profit they'd make from this operation, but taking 20% off the top sounded fair. Instead of a fixed sum, the Death Squad's payment was tied directly to their success—meaning no payout if they failed. A business model like that was bound to keep all parties motivated.

Vina gave the order for several large metal containers to be pulled from the truck. Yoren guessed they were specialized transport cases for the Originium they were after.

Once everything was prepared, Vina turned to him and Kate.

"Kate, you and Yoren stay here. Find a secure spot to hide the vehicles and make sure they're well camouflaged. Looks like we arrived first, so I'll take a team inside to scout the area. When you're done, contact us over the communicator."

"Understood."

Yoren knew the vehicles were critical. Without them, there'd be no way to transport the Originium back.

He watched as Vina and the others disappeared into the ruins, a growing unease settling in his gut. Something about this mission felt wrong.

Kate patted his shoulder. "Snap out of it. We need to clear an area in this dead forest for the vehicles. Go gather some dry grass and branches for cover."

"Got it."

The natural disaster had left all the surrounding trees lifeless, so finding dead branches was easy. Before long, Yoren had collected a sizable pile.

Kate reappeared, a battle axe resting on her shoulder. "All done on my end."

Yoren stacked the branches while making conversation. "Kate, is Vina always this cautious?"

Kate leaned against the truck, lighting a cigarette. "Nope. She only gets this careful when we're dealing with Originium zones. If this were Victoria, she'd probably be out drinking the night before a fight with some rival gang."

Yoren raised an eyebrow. "Really? Shouldn't humans be a bigger threat than mineral disease? A gang war can kill you instantly. Oripathy… takes time."

Kate exhaled a long plume of smoke. "That's true for most people. They're more afraid of the battle in front of them than the sickness creeping through their veins. But the Glasgow gang sees it differently."

"How so?"

"Because you can fight people. You can outthink them, outshoot them. But Oripathy? No matter how strong you are, you can't win against it. That's why this mission matters. We can kill any enemy, wipe out any opposition… but we can't fight the disease."

Yoren hesitated. "You think we can take down any enemy? With just the people we have here?"

Kate smirked. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Yoren chuckled. "Not really."

Kate took another drag from her cigarette. "Well, guess I'll have to prove it to you."

"How? You're not gonna beat me up, are you? Alright, alright, I get it! I believe you!"

Kate grinned. "Relax. I don't hit my own people."

"Then what's your plan?"

Kate blew out another smoke ring. "We've got a perfect test subject right over there."

A snap echoed through the air—the sharp sound of a branch breaking underfoot.

Yoren's instincts kicked in, and he turned quickly.

A group of men had approached within fifteen meters, moving silently. At least thirty of them, all wearing black coats. Their broad builds and heavy boots gave them away—Ursus.

Yoren's stomach dropped. In the middle of a dead city, deep in the wilderness, this wasn't a coincidence.

"Who… are you?" he asked cautiously.

The tallest among them, towering over two meters, stepped forward. He removed his hat, revealing a deep scar across his forehead—and a pair of bear ears.

"Looks like someone got here before us."

Yoren's pulse quickened. "Are you… Ursus military?"

Kate clapped him on the shoulder. "Relax, kid. They're not military. Probably just the biggest local gang near Mandel City."

The Ursus leader's gaze darkened. The scar on his forehead looked even more menacing as he furrowed his brow.

"This Originium mine is massive. Big enough that if we get what we need before the army shows up, we'll be set for the next six months. Since there's more than enough to go around, I'd rather avoid unnecessary friction."

Then his tone shifted, cold and dangerous.

"But, boy… what you said just now really pissed me off. Before we get to business, I think it's important that you understand the power of Ursus."

Yoren felt sweat bead on his forehead. He leaned toward Kate and whispered, "Stall them. I'll contact Vina."

Kate scoffed. "No need for that."

"Why not?!"

Yoren assumed Kate wanted to avoid a direct fight. There were too many of them, and they were all hardened Ursus men. Even if they called Vina back, their odds weren't great. The best plan should have been to delay, slip away, and regroup later.

But as Yoren debated escape routes, Kate casually stepped forward.

Under the watchful eyes of the Ursus thugs, she flicked her cigarette…

…and let it land directly on the scarred man's face.

An arrogant smirk played on her lips as she spoke.

"Is the power of Ursus just standing there looking tough?"

Silence.

Tension crackled in the air, thick enough to suffocate.

Yoren's mind went blank.

Is Kate out of her damn mind?!

 

[CloudyWorld]

Chapter 18

Among all the races in Terra, the Ursus were undisputed in terms of raw combat power.

Every Ursus male was born a warrior, their bloodline granting them immense strength and resilience. It made them proud, often to the point of arrogance, looking down on weaker races. To them, only their own kind were worthy opponents. Being challenged by an outsider was an insult they had never suffered.

Kate tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on the towering Ursus gang boss.

"Is the power of you Ursus people just standing there doing nothing?"

The man's eyes widened, veins bulging on his forehead.

"Ahh!!!"

The next second, he roared and lunged forward.

"I'M GOING TO TEAR YOU APART!"

Drawing the massive sword from his back, he stomped forward. Over two meters tall, he rushed at Kate like a runaway freight train.

Yoren felt the ground tremble beneath him.

"Kate, be careful!"

When the Ursus giant was just two meters away, he raised his sword high, ready to bring it down with devastating force.

At the very last moment, Kate moved.

There was a flicker of cold intent in his eyes as he stepped forward, his calloused hand shooting out like a viper.

His palm met the Ursus man's face.

A crack split the air. The massive man's momentum came to an instant, unnatural stop.

BOOM!

The ground beneath them exploded. Cracks spiderwebbed outward as the force of the impact drove the Ursus leader's entire upper body into the earth.

Chunks of rock and dust shot into the air. The blood splatter was immediate.

When the debris finally settled, Kate calmly pulled his hand from the wreckage and shook off the blood. The Ursus gang boss lay motionless, his head buried in the shattered ground.

Dead. Motionless.

The silence was deafening.

The surrounding Ursus gang members stood frozen, eyes locked on the corpse of their leader, as if their brains had yet to register what had just happened in front of them.

To them, the outcome had been obvious. That scrawny Vaifan should have been cut down in an instant, or at the very least forced to roll out of harm's way.

Instead, with a single hand, Kate had ended it all in a heartbeat.

The stunned silence broke with a howl of rage.

"He killed the boss! GET HIM!"

Weapons were drawn. The remaining Ursus gang members surged forward, their roars echoing through the barren landscape.

Despite witnessing Kate's terrifying strength, they still believed in their numbers. No matter how strong one fighter was, he couldn't possibly stand against dozens.

Kate didn't move. Instead, he glanced at Yoren and called out.

"Yoren, get back to the truck. I've got this."

"You're handling this alone?"

Kate narrowed his eyes.

"Didn't I just say I had something to prove to you?"

---

Ten minutes later.

Kate knelt on the bloodstained snow, one hand bracing against the ground as he gasped for breath.

One of his eyes was swollen shut, blood trickling from a deep cut. His back bore two vicious, crisscrossing wounds, and his other hand dripped crimson onto the frozen earth.

Around him lay over thirty bodies. Some twitched in their final moments, others were still. The snow, once pristine, was now painted red.

Only one Ursus remained alive, barely.

The dying man's body trembled as he forced his lips to move.

"You… who are you…?"

Kate exhaled slowly, ignoring the pain lancing through his body. He sat down with a tired grunt and pulled out a cigarette.

He lit it, took a deep drag, and let the smoke curl into the freezing air.

"Ever heard of the Glasgow Gang?"

The moment the words left his mouth, the Ursus man's pupils shrank in horror.

"You… Are you… Vina?"

Kate let out a low chuckle. "Heh, no. Vina's our boss, and she's a woman. Me? I'm just a small-time nobody."

The Ursus man coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. Still, there was a strange sense of peace in his expression.

As if dying by the hands of Glasgow was something he could accept.

"Why… would a famous international gang be here…?"

Kate smirked. "You even need to ask? Money, obviously."

The Ursus man let out a weak, breathy chuckle. "Heh… yeah… that's real gangster…"

His eyes slid shut.

He never opened them again.

---

Yoren sat in the truck, watching the entire fight unfold before him.

His impression of Kate shifted entirely.

He had always thought of him as the easygoing one, the guy who cracked jokes and played it cool. But after witnessing the massacre, there was only one way to describe him:

A god of war.

There had been no elaborate techniques, no fancy maneuvers. Just raw, brutal efficiency. Every punch was meant to kill. Every movement was calculated. Kate had faced down a force ten times his own and emerged standing, his enemies in pieces around him.

Before, Yoren had believed the Glasgow Gang's fearsome reputation rested on the shoulders of Vina and Indra. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Watching Kate fight, he realized something.

The only reason Snowsant's defense had seemed impenetrable before wasn't because Vina and Kate weren't strong enough to break it.

It was because Snowsant's backpack was just that unreasonably tough.

If he removed her from the equation, it was undeniable—the Glasgow Gang's core fighters were among the deadliest warriors in Terra.

And it wasn't by accident.

They weren't a club. They weren't some social group. They were a gang. A real one. Their entire survival depended on their ability to fight and win. Their numbers were small, but each member had carved their way through death itself to earn their place.

That was why Vina was so cautious. She could flip battles against impossible odds, she could stomach watching her comrades fall in combat…

But against Oripathy, she was powerless.

Watching her people waste away, knowing she couldn't save them—that was the one enemy she couldn't fight.

That was why she had to be careful.

Yoren exhaled. The sky was getting darker.

Kate flicked away his cigarette and shouted toward the truck.

"Yoren! Why the hell are you still hiding in there?! Get out here and help me! This hurts like hell!"

Yoren blinked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"Got it!"

---

Yoren opened the truck door and rushed over to help Kate up.

"Kate, your injuries—"

"Nothing serious. Just some surface wounds. I pushed myself too hard back there. Just need a breather."

"But your eye—"

Kate grinned, waving a hand dismissively. "Eh, just rubbed it wrong. A little gauze and I'll be good as new."

Seeing that Kate wasn't just putting on a brave face, Yoren nodded and let it go.

After a brief rest, the two secured the vehicle, activated the communicator, and reached out to Vina.

"Vina, this is Kate. The car's hidden. Where are you now?"

"What took you so long?"

"Had a little trouble. Took care of it."

"We're in A6, near a run-down church. Get here fast."

"On our way."

---

15 minutes later.

Following the map, Yoren and Kate arrived in Block A6, quickly spotting the church Vina had mentioned.

The structure was distinctly Ursus in design. Though its walls had been battered by time and disaster, traces of once-grand murals still clung to the stone.

Stepping inside, Yoren immediately spotted Vina and the others resting.

"Vina, we're here."

Vina strode toward them, her sharp gaze locking onto Kate's wounds.

"Kate, what happened?"

Kate stretched his arms, still casual. "Ran into a local Ursus gang while parking the car. Seems like it's not just us and the military—other scavengers want a piece of this pie."

Vina's eyes narrowed. "It's dealt with?"

"Not a single one left."

She didn't look surprised. If anything, she had expected it.

Yoren, meanwhile, stood near the church entrance, scanning the ruins outside. Some shop signs still clung to buildings, their faded names barely legible.

He closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn't hard to imagine the lively streets of Mandel City, 27 years ago, filled with people instead of silence and decay.

Kate turned to Vina. "Find anything?"

"No traces of other groups yet. Looks like we're the first here."

"What's the next move?"

Vina knelt, spreading a map on the floor. Everyone immediately gathered around.

"Mandel City is structured like an irregular five-pointed star," she began. "There are five outer districts—A, B, C, D, and E—extending from the main city. A river cuts through the center, dividing it into North and South. That makes seven total districts."

The group studied the map, committing the layout to memory.

"Right now, we're in Block A6," Vina continued. "It's the closest point to our vehicle and our primary escape route. If anything goes wrong, take this street south. It leads straight to the hill where we parked."

She paused, scanning the faces around her. "Everyone got that?"

"Got it."

The group answered in unison.

Yoren, still processing, spoke up. "Where are we heading next?"

Vina pointed to the northern edge of the map.

"Almost everyone, including us, the Ursus military, and any other scavengers, will be entering from the south. That means they'll start in Districts A and B. But gathering Originium is a slow, complicated process. We can't afford to get caught up in competition here. We're moving here."

Yoren followed her finger. "City E?"

"Exactly. The northernmost district. It was Mandel City's slums. Fewer buildings mean a clearer view of Originium clusters. If we collect enough without interference, we grab our haul and slip away before anyone notices."

Yoren swallowed. "And… if we do run into someone?"

Vina's expression didn't waver. "If it's a small group, don't hesitate. Kill them. Take their Originium."

Yoren hesitated. "Just… kill them?"

Vina stepped closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Yoren, does that sound cruel to you? Don't be naive. If we don't kill them, they'll try to kill us. There are no rules here—no laws, no morality. If we want to leave with what we came for, we can't give the enemy a chance."

Yoren exhaled slowly, nodding. He understood. He had seen too many people die because they hesitated when they shouldn't have.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder—had Vina always been this ruthless? Or had she learned the hard way, suffering for past indecision?

In a world of disasters and high-stakes scavenging, this was survival. Nothing more.

A thought crossed his mind. "Vina, what if we run into the Ursus military?"

She folded the map and met his gaze.

"This may be the borderlands, but it's still Ursus territory. Originium is a national resource—they won't let outsiders take even a fraction of it. If I had to guess, the first thing they'll do when they arrive isn't mining… it's wiping out every 'thief' in this city."

Yoren's stomach clenched. "So what do we do if we see them?"

Vina's voice was cold. "Simple. We kill them."

She glanced at him one more time. "The syringe—is it safe?"

Yoren patted his inner pocket. "I have it. I know how important it is. I won't lose it."

Vina's lips curled into a rare smile. "Good. But listen, Yoren—you don't have to die protecting it. That syringe is for saving a Glasgow brother. You're one of us, too. An important partner. Your life matters more than the syringe."

There was no hesitation in her words. No hollow reassurance. Just quiet sincerity.

For the first time, Yoren realized—Vina already saw him as a true member of Glasgow.

"Vina..."

And what could he do for her in return?

As he met her gaze, something inside him shifted.

He didn't care about Originium profits. He didn't care whether the mission succeeded or failed.

This world should have followed its predetermined course. But because of him, everything was changing.

He ran a hand over the precious syringe through his clothes.

He couldn't save everyone.

But he could make damn sure that Vina never got infected.

No matter the cost.